What does it mean to love someone? The answer to that question has shaped the greatest stories ever told—both in scripture and in popular culture. From Adam and Eve to Romeo and Juliet, love has long been depicted as a force that drives human choices, binds people together, and gives life meaning. Yet, the world’s portrayal of love is ever-changing. In today’s films, love is often stripped of its deeper purpose and reduced to personal fulfillment rather than selfless devotion. This shift stands in stark contrast to the Savior’s example of divine love—love that is patient, enduring, and rooted in sacrifice.

For Valentine’s Day, I looked at five recently released films that attempt to define love for modern audiences. These movies, spanning genres from romantic comedy to action thriller, offer a revealing snapshot of contemporary views on relationships. What is the state of love at the movies? And what does that offer as a commentary about love in today’s world? 

The five films each have several romantic relationships. They cross genres, platforms, and creative teams: 

• “You’re Cordially Invited,” the Reese Witherspoon and Will Ferrell romantic comedy, about two weddings scheduled for the same venue.
• “Kinda Pregnant,” the Amy Schumer comedy about feeling jealous about her pregnant friend and meeting the man of her dreams.
• “Love Hurts,” the Ke Huy Quan action film about a lost love taking him back to his organized crime days. 
• “La Dolce Villa,” a Hallmark-style romance on Netflix starring Scott Foley and set in Italy.
• “The Gorge,” a horror-thriller about two military operatives who fall for each other while guarding opposite sides of a mysterious gorge.

These are not the best romance films, nor do they represent the entirety of the industry or perceptions of romantic love; they are intended to be a snapshot. What’s notable is that despite how different the films are, there were several notable trends that were present across the films.

The Path of Attraction

Across these films, a distinct four-step pattern emerged in how the romantic relationships develop.

1. They have something in common

2. One person likes something groan-worthy about the other person 

3. They do something transgressive together 

4. The man does something to win the woman’s favor

The first step is establishing a shared connection. This is a long-established trope across genres from “When Harry Met Sally” to “The Matrix.” In our films, the similarities range from comparing the longest sniper shots to bonding over a busy lifestyle.

Step two, there needs to be something that the audience finds groan-worthy but that the partner likes. Sometimes this is reciprocated, but not always. In “Kinda Pregnant,” for example, a secondary romance includes a man who is boisterous and misbehaves to the consternation of everyone but his wife. “Love Hurts” has an assassin who writes really cheesy poetry, but the real estate assistant falls in love with him because of it. Or our romantic lead tells groan-worthy jokes in “La Dolce Villa” only for his counterpart to be charmed. These characters are shown not just enduring the weaknesses of their partner of choice but being genuinely attracted to them. Sometimes the film even exaggerates a weakness to make this plot point work. For example, the male protagonist in “Kinda Pregnant” drives a Zamboni for a living, and we are told that this is a groan-worthy career so that when the female lead likes it, they can hit this point.

Step three involves sharing in a transgressive act. “You’re Cordially Invited” involves our two romantic leads involved in escalating bad behavior, but it’s only when they join together near the film’s end that the romance starts. “La Dolce Villa” has plenty of romantic moments, but the relationship doesn’t gel until they break into a booked venue to take pictures. “Love Hurts” has our two leads go back to the mob boss, against all good sense. This step establishes that it is our two characters against some other broader source. Sometimes this is defined—like our characters in “The Gorge” sharing their name in violation of orders. Other times it is more general, such as in “Kinda Pregnant,” where our characters have sex with the garage door open, scandalizing the neighbors.

Finally, the woman in the relationship sets terms the man must meet. Amusingly, in both “The Gorge” and “La Dolce Villa” this was the men agreeing to try and dance. The required terms are not always so anodyne (or positive.) In “Love Hurts,” our main character’s long lost love insists he gives up his peaceful life in real estate to return to the mob. This dynamic managed to stay intact even in “Kinda Pregnant,” where it is the female lead who betrays the male lead with her lie about being pregnant, and yet he’s the one who returns with the grand gesture to win her back over at the film’s end. This is repeated also in the married relationships we see. In “Kinda Pregnant,” both wives with children stayed in relationships with their husbands because of the child care they provided. And in “Love Hurts,” the C plot involves a grunt figuring out how to apologize appropriately so that his wife would take him back. 

This pattern is far from new, but it remains durable in the way we conceptualize the development of new romantic relationships. 

A Lack of Purpose

One of the striking similarities across the majority of these films is the absence of a greater purpose in the relationships they depict. While romance in film has historically been intertwined with larger ambitions—building a family, pursuing a shared creative endeavor, or overcoming an external challenge—these stories frame relationships as primarily a means of fulfilling adult emotional needs rather than contributing to something larger. 

“Kinda Pregnant” is the only one of the films that connects romantic relationships with parenthood, but it largely attempts to show why they do not need to be connected. Still, the longing of the protagonist Lainy, suggests a hard-to-entirely-dismiss desire to merge them.

Counterintuitively, these relationships are often set at odds of stability. “Love Hurts” makes a particularly bold statement about love when it has our main character have to choose between a stable suburban career and a loving relationship. “You’re Cordially Invited” spends its entire run time showing us that our two main characters are incredibly destructive when they are together, but they get together anyway because they have a crush. “La Dolce Villa” actually puts it into words. Two side characters are in a relationship, but we only ever see them arguing. When they break up near the end, the protagonist encourages one of them, “Anything worth having is worth fighting for, and that’s all you seem to do.” He says our hero is a “genius” and then runs off to get back into that relationship.

“The Gorge” makes an interesting counterexample. Our main characters are set in a dangerous world and discover they are better able to survive when they help protect each other. It’s a subtle but poignant lesson that seems to be largely lost in the nearest romance films. 

Physical Binary

A notable trend in the five Valentine’s season films is the way they handle physical intimacy. The first kiss and the first instance of sex occur within the same moment, creating a stark physical binary. This means there is no build-up—no initial kiss, no gradual increase in physical intimacy that allows for tension and anticipation. Instead, the films present physical romance as an all-or-nothing event, where characters transition instantly from not in a relationship to in a sexual relationship. 

“La Dolce Villa” is a notable example because, in many ways, it hits the traditional beats of romantic comedy. But when they finally decide to set aside their professional conflicts, they kiss and immediately proceed to bed. There are no intermediate physical moments or any physical manifestations of a deepening relationship. While more expected, this pattern repeats itself in the other films. “Love Hurts” has one relationship that grows very close but never realizes itself with a kiss. The other relationship storms through both. 

The exception that proves the rule in this case is “Kinda Pregnant.” In this film, Amy Schumer’s character pretends to be pregnant and then meets the man of her dreams and has to navigate her lie. The physicality of her relationship is a major theme because she is trying to wear a fake baby bump. So while she kisses him on the first date and doesn’t sleep with him until the second, the film presents this as atypical to highlight the plot elements. 

This trend may be a result of relying on the will they/won’t they question to dominate the narrative. But most of these films had many more questions to explore. Well over half of “The Gorge” comes after we’ve answered that question. “La Dolce Villa” has an entire secondary plot about who will own the house after our romantic leads consummate their relationship. The only film that leaves the answer to the question until the end is “You’re Cordially Invited.” This means that there’s no compelling plot reason to rush things. If anything, they’re abandoning lots of dramatic potential that could help enhance the final acts of these films. 

This approach contrasts with older films such as “Titanic,” “Notting Hill,” or “Crazy Stupid Love,” which promote contemporary sexual ethics but still use a spectrum of physicality to communicate the state of a relationship to an audience. 

Deprioritized Romantic Relationships

One of the interesting phenomena of these films is what a relatively small role the romantic elements even play. Despite being romance films set for Valentine’s Day releases, they spend a lot of their time on broad comedy, shoot-em-up action, or thriller mysteries.

This prioritization from the filmmakers mirrors the feelings of their characters. Rather than portraying romance as a central driving force, these films treat relationships as secondary to the protagonists’ personal struggles, rivalries, or moments of self-discovery.

In both “La Dolce Villa” and “You’re Cordially Invited,” the romance is treated as a replacement comparable to the relationships the main characters have with their children, and as they let their close relationship with their children go, they find a romantic relationship to fill the space. A romantic relationship is not treated as primary but interchangeable. Other times the romance is accidental. In “The Gorge,” our characters meet each other in a total fluke. While “Kinda Pregnant” shows our only character who wants a relationship, she only finds one once she stops trying. “Love Hurts” shows our only character who has made a long-term attempt to woo his partner, and of the five films, he is the one who has the least success by the film’s end.

But in “Love Hurts,” when Marvin tries to build his life, he first gets a job, then a home, then success, and only once he has the regional real estate salesman of the year award does he pursue romance. 

In “You’re Cordially Invited,” two couples get married. One of them has been out of college for a year. Both have good jobs, live together, and are going to move across the country. But after they get married, they get the marriage annulled, deciding that it is too big of a step. They stay together, but they decide to get married later when they’re ready. 

“Kinda Pregnant” starts with our main character believing that her boyfriend will propose because they’ve been dating for four years, and she’s now turned forty. He doesn’t and instead asks to have a threesome. While our main character is upset, we catch back up with him later to show that his path was a good path for him, and he’s happy. 

What’s interesting is that these movies often talk warmly about marriages that must have occurred at young ages and produced happy families, but those are only ever our characters’ backstories. Marriage and relationships are consistently treated like a cherry on top of an already-completed life rather than a component part of a completed life. 

The State of Love at the Movies

Taken together, these trends paint a picture of contemporary romance in film that is both familiar and subtly evolving. The structural patterns of attraction—finding commonality, embracing quirks, engaging in transgressive acts, and ultimately proving devotion—remain firmly in place. However, modern romantic films increasingly frame relationships as secondary, treating them as a means of fulfilling emotional needs rather than a key pillar of personal or shared purpose.

The way physical intimacy is handled in these films further reinforces this trend. By compressing romantic progression into a single moment, filmmakers eliminate the nuances of gradual relationship-building, making love feel transactional. Similarly, the absence of greater purpose in these relationships suggests that romance is no longer portrayed as a foundation for building a life together but as an optional enhancement to a fully realized independent existence.

Perhaps the most telling trend is the deprioritization of romance as a narrative focus. While these films are marketed as love stories, they often treat relationships as secondary to personal growth, comedic chaos, or external conflict. The protagonists find love almost incidentally, as though romance is something that happens when all other elements of life have been resolved. This is particularly where romance emerges as a substitute for shifting familial relationships rather than as a goal in itself.

The underlying message of these films is clear: romance is not a necessity but a pleasant addition to an already complete life. While this reflects a cultural shift toward personal fulfillment and self-sufficiency, it also raises questions about whether love, as traditionally understood in storytelling, is losing its central place in cinematic narratives. As modern films continue to reshape the romance genre, it remains to be seen whether future stories will continue to treat love as an afterthought or find new ways to reestablish its significance in shaping meaningful lives. And dare we hope they might return to portraying the kind of love God invites us to? In the meantime, we can use this holiday—every day—to celebrate the real thing.

The post Love at the Movies: Why Romance is Dead, but Hollywood Pretends Otherwise appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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