By Alex McPherson
Packed with impressively choreographed action sequences and featuring another lovable performance from Ke Huy Quan, director Jonathan Eusebio’s “Love Hurts” delivers schmaltzy Valentine’s Day beats with a side of cartoonishly excessive violence.
Marvin (Quan) is a successful realtor who goes about his days with a smile on his face and a sense of true contentment. His depressed and jaded assistant, Ashley (Lio Tipton), on the other hand, threatens to leave her job, but can’t bring herself to actually quit. Marvin’s boss and BFF, Cliff (Sean Astin), awards Marvin a coveted Employee of the Month certificate.
Everything seems dandy for Marvin for the time being (Marvin’s inner monologue frequently reminds us that he loves his life), but, as it happens, Marvin’s history as an assassin just ain’t done with him yet.
After being ambushed in his workplace office by The Raven (Mustafa Shakir), a killer with a taste for bad poetry, Marvin makes use of his dormant skill set.. Marvin KOs The Raven with the help of, among other things, a freshly-sharpened #2 pencil — reassuring Ashley that he’s doing “high intensity yoga” when she hears the ruckus from the lobby and knocks on the door.
The Raven was sent by Marvin’s crime lord brother, Alvin a.k.a. Knuckles (Daniel Wu), to find the whereabouts of Rose (Ariana DeBose), Alvin’s former right-hand who stole money from him and, along with that, stole Marvin’s heart. Long ago, when working as an assassin for his brother, Marvin was ordered to eliminate Rose, but he spared her life.
The badass Rose, previously in hiding, has returned to take down Knuckles once and for all, while also luring Marvin into his old ways — not-so-subtly nudging him to embrace the love he still has for her.
She soon gets in touch with Marvin directly (by tasing him, as one does), and Marvin reluctantly joins forces with her to end Alvin’s criminal reign. They’re also pursued by goons King (Marshawn “Beastmode” Lynch) and Otis (André Eriksen), who are working for Renny (Cam Gigandet), the current second-in-command at Knuckles’ criminal enterprise.
They all have absolutely no idea who they’re dealing with. Over-the-top violence, double-crosses, and copious exposition dumps ensue, as the innocent-looking Marvin confronts his violent past and maybe embraces his true love along the way.
Suffice to say, viewers going into “Love Hurts” expecting a masterfully crafted action extravaganza à la “Monkey Man,” “Nobody,” or the “John Wick” franchise won’t be blown away. Longtime stunt coordinator Eusebio’s film, his feature directorial debut, is neither slick nor particularly clever, ultimately doing little with its now-familiar premise.
But what “Love Hurts” does have, in spades, is charm, thanks in large part to Quan, who more than holds his own as an action star even when the script lets him down.
Indeed, as demonstrated recently in his Oscar-nominated turn in “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” Quan has an inherent likability that’s easy to become attached to. Here, in “Love Hurts,” that persona is initially dialed up to 11, with Marvin embracing his job as a realtor seemingly caring only about helping his customers find their perfect homes.
It’s a natural fit for Quan, and Luke Passmore’s screenplay finds humorously nutty contrasts between the normal-ish appearance Quan puts on at the beginning and the cutthroat carnage he’s willing to dish out if provoked.
Less successful are the film’s inner monologues (not just applicable to Marvin), which outright tell us what Marvin feels at any given moment, undermining Quan’s obvious skills as an actor to show rather than tell.
Quan shines over the rest of the ensemble, which, like him, aren’t supported by strong characterizations. DeBose slides into the role of the “cool,” seductive Rose a bit too easily, not given much to work with on her own thanks to the screenplay’s rushed exposition; Rose functions more as a vessel for Marvin’s arc than anything else.
Gigandet and Wu don’t bring much to the table, besides some dangerously-sharp boba tea straws, but Eriksen and, especially, Lynch (who showed his comedic chops in 2023’s “Bottoms”) are hilarious and well-cast as two henchmen in a bromance.
Shakir is also entertainingly deadpan as The Raven, who strikes up an unexpected romance with Tipton’s Ashley. Astin (a long way from “The Lord of the Rings”) seemingly has more romantic chemistry with Quan than DeBose does. Rhys Darby, sans most of his teeth, also pops in for a brief but memorable appearance as a back-stabbing bad guy.
From a storytelling perspective, “Love Hurts” is clumsy, packing in a surprisingly dense amount of exposition during its 83-minute (wow!) runtime that Eusebio doesn’t weave into the proceedings with any sort of elegance.
But that’s okay when the action is so relentless, creative, and, above all else, fun — creating an entertainingly unhinged juxtaposition between the film’s cheesy, lovey-dovey character arcs and R-rated beatdowns.
Bridger Nielson’s cinematography puts viewers right in the thick of it, in which characters use anything and everything at their disposal to dish out maximum pain. Like the best of Jackie Chan, “Love Hurts” excels when showing violent set-ups and payoffs amid its fisticuffs and gun-fu-adjacent set-pieces; they’re perfect to watch with a crowd, where the carnage on display provides more comedy than anything in the film’s script.
And that’s what “Love Hurts” delivers — excellent action with a likable lead let down by a decidedly less-than-excellent narrative that, despite its ample flaws, remains agreeably pure at the end of the day. Quan and DeBose, especially, deserve meatier roles than this, but “Love Hurts” is a perfectly enjoyable, blood-spattered action film that doesn’t overstay its welcome.
“Love Hurts” is a 2025 action-comedy directed by Jonathan Eusebio and starring Ke Huy Quan, Ariana DeBose, Sean Astin, Cam Gigandet, Mustafa Shakir, Marshawn Lynch, Lio Tipton, Daniel Wu, and Andre Eriksen. It is rated R for strong/bloody violence and language throughout. and the runtime is 1 hour, 23 minutes. It opened in theaters Feb. 7. Alex’s Grade: B.
Alex McPherson is an unabashed pop culture nerd and a member of the St. Louis Film Critics Association.
