by Tim Gordon
Love Hurts wants to be a slick, pulpy action-comedy with a twist of romance, but instead lands somewhere between misfire and mild amusement, a film that hints at style but struggles to deliver substance.
Directed by Jonathan Eusebio (in his feature debut) and starring Ke Huy Quan in a rare leading-man turn, the film follows Marvin Gable, a mild-mannered Milwaukee realtor whose biggest worry should be staging houses, except his past has other plans. Once an elite assassin for “The Company,” Marvin turned his back on that life after sparing the woman he loved, Rose (Ariana DeBose), when he was ordered to kill her. Now, years later, she resurfaces with a mysterious crimson envelope and Marvin’s carefully constructed life collapses as his estranged brother Alvin, aka “Knuckles” (Daniel Wu), unleashes a squad of colorful killers to finish what Marvin never did.
On paper, that setup is pure gold in the action-comedy genre. However, in execution, Love Hurts feels like a watered-down riff on the kinetic, chaotic style of Guy Ritchie or Matthew Vaughn, lacking their sharpness and swagger. The movie is littered with hitmen quirkily named (Raven, King, Otis) and setups for double-crosses, but the wit that should snap these characters to life just isn’t there.
The action is serviceable but rarely memorable. Eusebio, a seasoned stunt coordinator, brings flashes of creativity to a few fight scenes, particularly one in which Marvin turns an open house into an improvised kill box, but much of the choreography feels restrained, as if the film itself wasn’t sure whether to fully commit to hard-hitting brutality or over-the-top comedy.
Ke Huy Quan is perhaps the most unlikely action lead in years, which could have been this film’s ace-in-the-hole. He’s game for the role, infusing Marvin with an awkward charm and flashes of lethal skill that suggest his assassin past. But the script never fully reconciles those tones, leaving Quan caught between mild-mannered dad jokes and bursts of ultra-violence, a tonal whiplash that never quite gels.
Ariana DeBose fares better, giving Rose a spark that the screenplay doesn’t always support. Her chemistry with Quan, unfortunately, feels strained; their romance is meant to be the emotional center of the film, but instead it plays as an obligatory subplot, weighed down by flat dialogue and too many clichés.
The supporting cast is stacked Mustafa Shakir and Cam Gigandet as rival assassins, Sean Astin as Marvin’s hilariously oblivious boss, and even Marshawn Lynch popping in for comic relief, but they’re mostly wasted, reduced to sketch-level characters whose quirks substitute for actual depth.
By the time the film lurches into its “big showdown,” Love Hurts has already squandered most of its goodwill. The pacing drags in spots, the humor never fully lands, and the plot twists are predictable from miles away.
There are moments, fleeting ones, where you see what Love Hurts could’ve been: a scrappy, oddball genre movie with bite. But mostly, it’s a film that tries to juggle too much (romance, action, family drama, comedy) and ends up dropping every ball.
Grade: C-