Love Hurts

by Mike McGranaghan

Love Hurts shares its name with a classic ‘70s rock song by Nazareth, but it could just as easily have borrowed its title from the J. Geils Band’s hit “Love Stinks.” I would be very interested in seeing what this movie looked like before they edited it to death. The version being released to theaters is a confusing jumble of ideas, characters, and plot points that lead nowhere. You can see the potential, which only makes it more obvious how bungled the finished product is.

Marvin Gamble (Ke Huy Quan) is a successful real estate agent with a mild-mannered personality. His world is turned upside down by the return of Rose (Ariana DeBose), a woman from his past. A bunch of nasty goons are looking for her, at the behest of Marvin’s criminal kingpin brother Knuckles (Daniel Wu). Rose, it seems, stole some money and went into hiding but now wants to resume a normal life. Only Marvin can help her.

Why? Because before he reinvented himself as a realtor, he was a ruthless killer who also worked for Knuckles. Here’s where the problems with Love Hurts begin. The film just barely explains Marvin’s prior life. There are a couple of very brief flashbacks, and that’s it. This is a fatal issue because the whole story hinges on the idea that Rose needs him to turn back into the man he used to be in order to save her. Without a proper establishment of his history, any drama concerning his reluctance to let go of his new, violence-free lifestyle is negated. To compensate for missing material, the film relies on voiceover narration – from Rose as well as Marvin – to explain the nature of their relationship and how he used to be a very different guy.

Elsewhere, there are efforts to do some John Wick-style world building. We meet people from the criminal underworld, including a hitman (Mustafa Shakir) who writes poetry; a goofy underworld accountant (Rhys Darby); two perpetually bickering thugs (Marshawn Lynch and André Eriksen); and a mid-level criminal (Cam Gigandet) who set Rose up. Their individual arcs are cut short across the board, so none make much of an impression. Introduction of these characters is awkwardly handled, rendering it difficult to figure out precisely what their connections are to one another. Material explaining them and setting up the environment they exist in appears to have been heavily excised, possibly accounting for the movie’s 83-minute running time – a length that includes four minutes of end credits.

Ironically, all this nonsense and confusion is interrupted by genuinely well-staged action sequences. One set in Marvin’s kitchen recalls the best efforts of Jackie Chan in its “anything can be a weapon” comedic approach. These scenes are stylishly shot and contain an energy that’s missing from the rest of the film. If there were more of them, it might be easier to overlook the patched-together plot.

The saddest thing about Love Hurts is that it lets Ke Huy Quan down. He’s typically likeable here, and he proves quite convincing in the fight sequences. After his career comeback, culminating in an Oscar win for Everything Everywhere All at Once, the actor has earned a picture that puts him front and center. On paper, this probably looked like a good idea, but somehow it went wrong on the way to the screen. Hopefully, he’ll get another chance soon. Fellow Oscar winner Ariana DeBose also deserves better. She’s trying to do something interesting with Rose yet is undermined by the movie’s rough assembly.

The super-short length combined with the slapdash story make it apparent that Love Hurts had a troubled post-production. (Numerous moments from the trailer are not included in the final cut.) It’s not so much a movie as it is remnants of a movie, cobbled together and tossed into cinemas in the hope of making a quick buck before toxic word of mouth spreads.

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