Jack Quaid as “Nate" in Novocaine from Paramount Pictures.
Courtney Howard // Film Critic
NOVOCAINE
Rated R, 1 hour and 50 minutes
Directed by: Dan Berk & Robert Olsen
Starring: Jack Quaid, Amber Midthunder, Ray Nicholson, Jacob Batalon, Betty Gabriel, Matt Walsh, Conrad Kemp, Evan Hengst, Lou Beatty Jr.
When a film about a guy who’s impervious to pain begins on R.E.M.’s “Everybody Hurts,” we know the filmmakers are going to hit the right notes. Directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen’s NOVOCAINE is the perfect drug for our bloody ailments. Starting with a knowing chuckle, it flings open the doors for us to empathize with our hapless hero’s fairy-tale-inspired quest to rescue his lady love from ruthless criminals. We’re entirely locked in and wincing along in sympathy pain.
Twenty-something assistant bank manager Nathan Cane (Jack Quaid) learned early on to stop taking risks. He’s living with a genetic disorder affecting his nervous system that prevents him from feeling physical pain. It demands he take extreme precautions lest he injure himself, doing things like drinking his coffee cold, surviving on an exclusively liquid diet and mindfully limiting the hot water temperature. While he can’t feel any painful sensations himself, he has a deep well of emotional capability to sense pain in his clientele, helping grieving widower Earl (Lou Beatty Jr.) skirt foreclosure. He’s also very lonely, playing online video games with a friend he’s never met in person, Roscoe (Jacob Batalon).
However, Nate’s world turns upside down when his work crush Sherry (Amber Midthunder) asks him out on a lunch date and encourages him to start eating solid food. Their second date also leads to his personal catharsis, not just facing down his childhood bully, but also baring his soul and tattooed body to her. Yet the very next day, right as he’s about to ask her out again, a trio of Santa-suited bank robbers – led by Simon (Ray Nicholson) – descend on the branch, killing their manager, stealing sacks full of cash and taking Shelly hostage. Nate impulsively takes off after the baddies and unwittingly gets in the way of the criminals’ ultimate plan, leading detectives Mincy (Betty Gabriel) and Coltraine (Matt Walsh) to also label Nate as a potential suspect.
Berk and Olsen, along with writer Lars Jacobson, clearly have a ton of fun with the torturous predicaments they place their hero in, from the kitchen fight where his suffering becomes a superpower to the climactic finale where his body becomes a weapon (which, word of warning, will leave those with the strongest of constitutions squeamish). The booby-trapped house sequence is one for the books. Blending tension, comedy and romance can be tricky, but these filmmakers smartly find a good tonal balance. It’s strangely crowd-pleasing to see Nate get tossed around like a rag doll and then inevitably gain the upper hand in these wild smackdowns. Action choreography is rough and tumble, gifted with copious amounts of grit and gravitas, especially when Nate blossoms into a badass.
That said, there are a handful of weak ingredients in the chef’s otherwise potent broth. Every time it cuts away to the detectives, the picture loses its kinetic narrative momentum. Only one of them winds up being integral to the plot and both are a bit of nothing burgers, who are neither funny nor particularly compelling. We are repeatedly told it’s almost Christmas and yet the production design is virtually devoid of holiday decor, reflected only in the lowlife’s disguises. Worse, a juicy Big Reveal happens far too soon in the picture and should’ve been kept from the audience until the protagonist comes to this crushing realization. Every minute of Nate’s noble quest from this initial story beat forward makes this other character’s actions kinda irredeemable.
Where rookie mistakes are made in the narrative, the actors’ performances pick up the slack. Quaid is insanely likeable, instilling his sad-sack, adorably foppish cutie-pie with vulnerability and strength. His “aw shucks” bashfulness and inherited Cheshire-Cat-like grin are used to great advantage, revealing complex shading to the character appeal. The material wisely allows Quaid (son of Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid) and Nicholson (son of Jack Nicholson) embrace their lineage with gusto. For Quaid, this film recalls the pressing drive of dad Dennis’ work in D.O.A, as well as Ryan’s fake orgasm scene in WHEN HARRY MET SALLY – as he fakes screaming while tortured. Nicholson’s broader, unhinged moments are tightly controlled and skillfully maneuvered. His villainous edge feels like an imposing threat.
Though you might never suspect a movie this light-hearted holds a modicum of introspective meaning, the most audacious magic trick it pulls is that it has a rousing afterglow. Its sentiments harbor a lot of hopefulness about bettering one’s life and the benefits of stepping out of one’s shell. You might get the living shit kicked out of you, but that’s the fun of living – and of this film.
Grade: B+
NOVOCAINE opens in theaters on March 14.
