‘Love Hurts’ Review: This Fight Club is a Real Pain [C-]

Winning an Oscar is pretty great, or so I’ve heard. But for actors, the hard-earned victory brings with it a new challenge – what to do next. So many performers have stumbled after earning their gold, whether because of miscalculated career decisions or, even worse, ulterior forces beyond their control. Ke Huy Quan and Ariana DeBose are both recent Academy Award winners, for Everything Everywhere All at Once and West Side Story, respectively. And now, they both star in the new film Love Hurts, from stunt coordinator turned first time director Jonathan Eusebio. For Quan, it’s a chance to lead a film that’s built around his talents and abilities. For DeBose, it’s unfortunately yet another disappointing movie that fails to showcase her in a way that highlights her gifts.

Quan plays Marvin, a successful Milwaukee realtor reveling in a quiet life. He’s the picture of the realized American Dream. But as is quickly shown, he’s hiding from his past as an assassin for a criminal gang. When he receives a mysterious red Valentine’s Day card with an ominous inscription, Marvin realizes that his former partner Rose (DeBose) is back. It’s not long before his violent former colleagues all come rushing back into his life, desperate to find Rose after Marvin left her for dead in what was supposed to be an execution. It turns out she apparently swindled Marvin’s brother – the crime boss known simply as Knuckles (Daniel Wu) – and now he wants his money back. Left with no choice, Marvin must do what he promised he’d never do again and fight back to defend his life of office parties, open houses, and general normalcy.

With one former stuntman behind the camera and another in front, it’s no surprise that Love Hurts is filled with lengthy fight scenes. And for the most part, they’re well choreographed. Weapons are creatively deployed and the action moves at a continuous, exciting pace. The camerawork and editing occasionally betray the hard work of the fight designers, with close shots and quick cuts undermining the abilities of the performers. But nonetheless, Quan shines in both these sequences and those where he must use his trademark charm and earnestness to win over other characters.

DeBose is less lucky. Given that she’s such a talented dancer, it might be expected that she’d get the chance to participate in some gymnastic-like fight scenes. But no dice. Her character is entirely preoccupied with slinking around the set, delivering line readings that range from charmingly sultry to smartly tossed-off to downright bizarre. She’s not helped by the unnecessary voiceover she’s forced to deliver, detailing her inner thoughts. Quan is given this unfortunate task as well, and rarely are either of them given anything revelatory or funny to say.

In fact, the movie suffers from being light in the joke department in general. Hackneyed observations and cliches abound, like a screenplay written using candy hearts as inspiration. The film’s funniest running gag involves Marvin’s apathetic assistant Ashley (Lio Tipton) and the first assassin to come knocking at Marvin’s door, simply called The Raven (Mustafa Shakir). The two form an unlikely connection, thanks to The Raven’s unexpected gift for poetry. Whenever the film cuts back to the lovestruck pair, the two actors’ deep commitment to the cheesy bit consistently evokes laughter. In fact, Shakir is the film’s highlight, playing the most interesting character. He’s sullen and brooding, styled in a way that’s just plain cool, with a long trench coat and innovative weapons (two large blades hidden in his shoes are particularly striking). 

But besides the lucky supporting couple, the writing doesn’t do anyone any favors. For such a short movie, there’s a large number of characters with overly explained backstories, motivations, and hidden intentions. It’s a lot to keep track of, especially because so much of it is doled out in lengthy dialogue scenes with little visual representation. Adding to the confusion are the many lingering shots on objects (a painting, a shotgun shell, etc.) that would seem to indicate their future importance, but ultimately, nothing comes of them. It’s as if the film is setting up mysteries it forgets to solve. 

For anyone rooting for Ariana DeBose’s post-Oscar career, Love Hurts, well, hurts. And while it’s exciting seeing Ke Huy Quan getting a chance to headline a film, it’s disappointing that it isn’t a better constructed one worthy of his skills. Marvin Gable (or as it sounds like a lot of characters call him after swallowing the gulpy second syllable of his last name, Marvin Gaye) is a far cry from the Everything Everywhere’s excellently developed and deeply sympathetic Waymond Wang, and Quan deserves better.

Grade: C-

Universal Pictures will release Love Hurts only in theaters on February 7.