THE STORY – Marvin is a Milwaukee realtor who receives a crimson envelope from Rose, a former partner-in-crime whom he left for dead. He now finds himself thrust back into a world of ruthless hit men and double-crosses that turn his open houses into deadly war zones. Hunted by his brother, a volatile crime lord, Marvin must confront the choices that haunt him and the history he never truly buried.
THE CAST – Ke Huy Quan, Ariana DeBose, Mustafa Shakir, Lio Tipton, Marshawn Lynch, André Eriksen, Cam Gigandet & Daniel Wu
THE TEAM – Jonathan Eusenio (Director), Matthew Murray, Josh Stoddard & Luke Passmore (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 83 Minutes
The resurgence of Ke Huy Quan is one of the most heart-warming narratives within the past few years. While many forgot about him, Quan never forgot about his passion for acting, shifting from delivering performances as a child in films like “The Goonies” to working behind the scenes as a stunt coordinator. Then the dream that every working veteran actor happened as his turn as Waymond Wang in the Best Picture-winning film “Everything Everywhere All At Once” earned him an Academy Award. Seeing Quan get his flowers at every award show felt like the serotonin boost we desperately needed (especially today). Now Quan is ready to step into his first role as a leading man, something that never really was afforded to him most, if not all, of his career. The new action-comedy “Love Hurts” aims to cement Quan as someone who’s here to stay, yet besides his bubbly presence, there’s not much here to give Quan the moment he truly deserves.
In “Love Hurts,” it seems everyone loves Marvin Gable (played by Quan), a happy-go-lucky realtor who feels like a one-for-one stand-in for Quan’s real-life persona. Marvin bakes cookies for his work associates, treats everyone with kindness, and is motivated by helping people find their dream homes to start a new phase of their lives. As Valentine’s Day approaches, a specially signed letter has made its way to Marvin, snapping him out of the bubble where he’s spent so many years isolating himself. It doesn’t help that his new life is on the fritz due to Rose (played by Ariana DeBose), someone from Marvin’s violent past who is asking to help her stop Marvin’s boba-slurping brother mob boss Knuckles (played by Daniel Wu). “Love Hurts” dares to ask what many action films before it has already answered in a far less enjoyable manner. The movie itself comes off a project solely greenlit due to Quan’s overall involvement in the lead role.
Quan is solid in his first outing as a leading man since winning an Oscar. The screenplay never asks Quan to ever go outside of his limitations and, in fact, keeps him railed into that teddy bear-esque image that makes him so loveable. That being said, Quan doesn’t pull any punches (literally) as he makes perfect use of his time as a fight choreographer, physically pushing himself to the furthest he’s gone on screen. It’s ultimately a serviceable performance that, without Quan’s presence, would make the film far less enjoyable. DeBose, who stars opposite Quan, is fine, delivering work far more watchable than her previous outings in “Argylle” and “Kraven the Hunter.” The motivations of DeBose’s character, alongside every other character, are paper thin, but at least DeBose tries to loosen things up compared to the straight-laced character that Marvin is. It doesn’t help that these two have little chemistry with one another despite being set up as romantic interests. It’s not that DeBose doesn’t attempt to try as if the screenplay gives little for the pair to work with.
Everyone else just falls into various levels of cartoony caricature. Whether it’s the goofball goons played by Marshawn Lynch and André Eriksen or Cam Gigandet’s generic outing as Knuckles right-hand man Renny Merlo, that feels like it was written in mind for Scott Eastwood. The only person in the cast who delivers a performance with any levity is Sean Astin, who gives a simplistic albeit poignant monologue, one of the film’s more memorable aspects. “The Goonies” meta-ness that is apparent in “Love Hurts,” while cute for a moment, also quickly overstays its welcome as Quan and Astin share a few moments, including one scene that comes off as a very unsubtle yet apt description of Marvin’s character that is without a doubt an intentional commentary on Quan’s recent career comeback.
Eusebio, who has clocked in many years of working as a stuntman, eventually found the natural shift into directing alongside others that have spawned from the Chad Stahelski/David Leitch era of stuntmen. The Leitchification of the action sequences is more than apparent, considering Leitch’s production company, 87North Productions, is behind “Love Hurts.” Eusebio’s direction of the action sequences feels overly choreographed, to the point where it seems Quan is slowing down so other actors can keep up. There’s little sense of rhythm at times when it looks as if actors are just trying to hit their marks, and even when it does come off as natural, the editing does no favors. The fights sometimes feel jarringly stitched together, especially when connected to specific impacts from some of the punches. Eusebio’s directorial flourishes aren’t aided by certain decisions that undercut unique creative choices. There’s one sequence, in particular, involving an award Marvin wins that is inserted into the action only for it to come off as more as a gimmick than an innovative play on perspective. The action is satisfying to a minimal degree whenever Quan isn’t involved, and it’s mainly due to Mustafa Shakir’s boot-blade-wielding character, The Raven.
It shouldn’t be surprising that a February slated action-comedy isn’t up to par. Still, it’s disappointing, especially considering this is Quan’s first real time in the limelight. It’s hard not to be too upset about this when Quan most likely had the time of his life making this film and is getting to experience the feeling of being a leading man in Hollywood. It’s true that you can be both happy for him in this opportunity and underwhelmed that he wasn’t afforded a film worthy of his talent.
