What 'Love Actually' Gets Right (and Wrong) About Love

I watched Love Actually again this Christmas Day. Like many people, it’s become part of the festive background noise - familiar, comforting, slightly indulgent. But this time, perhaps because of the work I do, it stirred up something more reflective.

The film is openly sentimental. It tells us, repeatedly, that love is everywhere, that it arrives suddenly, that it is obvious when it comes, and that if you are brave enough to declare it, something meaningful will happen. For a Christmas film, it’s effective. But as a therapist who spends most days sitting with people struggling in love, I couldn’t help noticing the gap between the film’s version of love and the one I meet in real life.

That doesn’t mean Love Actually is useless or misleading in every way. In fact, it gets some important things right. It just also gets some crucial things wrong.

What the film gets right

Love matters deeply.One thing Love Actually captures well is the emotional weight of love. Rejection hurts. Loss lingers. Connection can feel life-changing. These aren’t trivial experiences, and the film doesn’t treat them as such. When people come to therapy feeling ashamed of how much a relationship has affected them, I often find myself saying something similar: of course this matters. You’re not weak for caring this much.

Love shows up in many forms.The film isn’t only about romantic love. There’s grief between a widower and his stepson, affection between friends, quiet longing that never quite finds its place. In reality, many people struggle because they only validate romantic love and overlook the other bonds in their life that also sustain them. The film gently reminds us that intimacy isn’t one-dimensional.

Vulnerability is risky.When characters take emotional risks, the film shows how exposed they feel. Even when moments are played for humour, there’s a recognition that opening up can be terrifying. This reflects something very real. People don’t avoid honesty because they’re shallow – they avoid it because rejection, embarrassment and loss genuinely hurt.

Where it goes wrong

Love is not usually instant clarity. In Love Actually, people tend to “just know”. They see someone across a room, hear a song, exchange a look - and certainty follows. In real life, love is often confusing. Attraction and anxiety blur together. Familiar patterns feel intense but not always safe. Many clients come to therapy distressed precisely because they don’t feel clear, and they assume that means something is wrong. The film quietly reinforces that myth.

Grand gestures don’t fix underlying problems. Cue cards, airport chases, dramatic declarations - they make for memorable scenes. But in real relationships, change doesn’t happen through performance. It happens through consistency, repair, boundaries and learning how to communicate when emotions run high. A relationship that relies on repeated grand gestures but avoids difficult conversations is usually unstable, not romantic.

Desire is often divorced from context.The film frequently treats desire as self-justifying. If you feel it strongly enough, it must mean something. In therapy, I often see the opposite problem - people acting on desire without understanding why it’s there. Attraction can be shaped by insecurity, novelty, power dynamics or unresolved wounds. Without reflection, desire alone isn’t a reliable guide.

Love doesn’t usually arrive without cost. In Love Actually, the consequences of love are often softened or skipped over. In real life, love forces us to confront ourselves. It exposes our fears of abandonment, our defences, our learned strategies for staying safe. This is why relationships feel so destabilising at times – not because something is broken, but because something important is being revealed.

The quiet truth about real love

One of the biggest differences between cinematic love and real love is pace. Real love unfolds slowly. It involves misunderstanding, disappointment, repair and learning. It asks us to tolerate uncertainty rather than rush towards reassurance.

Many people I work with worry that if love doesn’t feel effortless, it must be wrong. But effort isn’t the enemy. Struggle isn’t failure. Often, the couples who do best are not the ones who never argue, but the ones who learn how to understand what their arguments are really about.

Real love also requires discernment. Not every strong feeling is a sign to pursue something. Not every relationship should be saved. Knowing when to stay, when to change and when to let go is far more complex than films suggest - and far more human.

Why films like this still matter

Despite its flaws, Love Actually persists because it speaks to a genuine longing. People want connection. They want to feel chosen, understood and safe with another person. The danger isn’t enjoying a romantic film - it’s using it as a template for how love should work.

If anything, the film can be a useful starting point for reflection. What parts resonated with you? Which stories felt painful rather than comforting? What expectations about love did you absorb without realising?

These are the kinds of questions that often lead people into therapy. Not because they are failing at love, but because they are taking it seriously.

Love is not always actually like the movies. But it is still one of the most meaningful, challenging and worthwhile parts of being human. And learning how it really works - rather than how we wish it worked - is often where the most growth happens.