It’s Difficult to Fall In Love With “Love Hurts”
We all know what we’re getting with a Valentine’s Day movie. Perhaps a creative meet cute or friends to enemies subplot enacted by gorgeous actors with sparkling, white teeth, immaculate wardrobes, and flawless hair. They’re designed to ensure our continued belief in love and exemplify relationship goals. But those of us who skew towards the cynical need a little more grit. Whether a hackneyed 80s slasher or dark body horror film, some of us like a little danger mixed in with the syrupy sweetness. Jonathan Eusebio’s Love Hurts is that kind of Valentine’s Day movie. Stylish action sequences propel this sweet comedy through a bevy of vague romance storylines, anchored by a charming lead who carries the day. However, the nonsensical plot and utter lack of onscreen chemistry keeps this action-packed valentine from closing the deal.
Marvin Gable (Ke Huy Quan) is a realtor trying to change his life. After years working as a hitman for his brother’s organized crime company, he’s abandoned that brutal line of work and now finds fulfillment in helping families find the home of their dreams. But a timely valentine from a former flame throws this charmed life into jeopardy. Years after he was contracted for her death, Rose (Ariana DeBose) returns with a mission to reclaim her lost power and exact revenge on the criminals who betrayed her. As assassins descend on Marvin’s idyllic new life, Rose teams up with the bewildered realtor forcing old habits to emerge. Though reluctant to kill, Marvin finds himself backed into a corner and must revive his former badass self to protect the woman he loves and the new persona he’s worked so hard to cultivate.
After years of stunt coordination. Quan gets to show off his impressive chops in a series of interesting action set pieces. Quirky assassins come out of the woodwork to attack him in various unexpected places like a busy office during a valentine’s day party, at a house he’s trying to sell, and his own stylish kitchen complete with a simmering crock-pot. These sequences are cleverly shot, engaging, and sufficiently brutal. And Marvin is a charming “fish out of water” villain. It’s amusing to see him reassure buyers that he can fix numerous bullet holes in their prospective new home. However, it’s not exactly a “reveal” that he’s got these incredible skills. Marvin is thrust into fights almost immediately and there’s no real arc to his deadly skills.
While action sequences sing, the film’s various love stories fall flat. DeBose’s Rose is little more than a manic pixie dream lawyer hellbent on revenge who comes out of nowhere to reclaim a life we never learn anything about. She keeps insisting that hiding isn’t living, but we’re given no reason why and never find out what she gave up by faking her death. Moments behind the bar are all we get for this beguiling character who turns Marvin’s life upside down. But the bigger problem is that Eusebio’s two leads have absolutely no chemistry. Marvin has a stronger connection with his friend Cliff (Sean Astin)—a charming The Goonies reunion—and we’re left wishing they had more scenes together. There’s believable history between these two charming men, and a story revolving around their love story would be hard to resist. But what we get instead is a paint by numbers romance that exists only to justify a series of increasingly elaborate fights. Similarly a side plot between Marvin’s depressed assistant Ashley (Lio Tipton) and a poetry-writing assassin feels thrown together and unbelievable.
If the love stories fall flat, the crime elements make even less sense. Characters float in and out of this convoluted story, barely seeming to understand their own place in the deal. Cam Gigandet is particularly wasted as a sycophantic Brutus with his hands in multiple high-level pockets. But after a few early scenes, he essentially disappears and has no impact on the story at all. It’s also tricky to piece out the relationship between Marvin and his brother Alvin (Daniel Wu) who gets an obsession with Boba Tea rather than a personality. If not for the emergence of a Property Brother and Marshawn Lynch’s delightfully strange comedic chops, this element of the plot would feel like a total slog.
However, Eusebio keeps the pace moving and fills the short runtime with several exciting action sequences. They dip into oddly unsettling tonal shifts and wildly stretch the limits of disbelief, but they’re enough to keep us sufficiently entertained while the unsuccessful story trudges along. Love Hurts works as a starring vehicle and stunt showcase for Quan, but everything else is not worth the time.