Jack Quaid in Novocaine

There is a type of actor you are always glad to see, the type you trust to take something rote, even bland, and make it watchable. Meg Ryan is one such actor, so it makes sense that her son, Jack Quaid, shares the same quality. Whether it’s on The Boys or a Red Letter Media video or a B-level genre flick, it’s always nice to see Jack Quaid. He also has something of his dad’s mojo, the same kind of wired quirkiness as Dennis Quaid, which makes him an appealingly oddball leading man. Jack Quaid won the nepotism lottery, inheriting the best of both parents and tuning it to his own frequency, carving out a niche playing losers and suckers with hearts of gold, the kind of character you root for no matter what.

Novocaine leans heavily on Quaid’s appeal, relying on his charm to sell the film’s high concept premise: Nathan Caine (get it?) is a reclusive loser forced to the sidelines of life by congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis (CIPA), which means he doesn’t process pain. He has to use the bathroom on a schedule, so he doesn’t explode his bladder, and he subsists on a liquid diet lest he chew off his own tongue. Nathan is an assistant manager at a credit union with a crush on his cool coworker Sherry (Amber Midthunder), and just when it seems Sherry is bringing Nathan out of his shell, she is kidnapped following a bank robbery. Nathan, determined not to lose her, takes off after Sherry and the robber/kidnappers in a stolen cop car. Mayhem ensues.

Novocaine is probably what Love Hurts was supposed to be, a hard-charging action flick anchored by a charming leading man and a dopey if sweet romantic subplot. But where Love Hurts cannot get out of first gear, Novocaine immediately powers to top gear and never slows down. That is in large part due to directing duo Dan Berk and Robert Olsen who, along with stunt coordinators Kerry Gregg and Stanimir Stamatov, and fight coordinator/choreographer Radoslav Parvanov, put together a series of gnarly action scenes that use Nathan’s diagnosis to achieve fight scenes that are both brutal beat-downs and top-notch gross-out humor. Novocaine effectively combines action and comedy by mining the myriad setups Nathan’s diagnosis makes possible as he sustains injuries of ever-increasing absurdity and severity. (Kudos to writer Lars Jacobson, too, for never letting logic slow him down.)

There is a third act twist that isn’t very twisty if you’ve ever seen a movie before, but thanks to the quality of the fight scenes, the film powers through its own shallow plotting. The supporting cast also helps, besides Midthunder being an appropriately appealing romantic interest, Jacob Batolon shows up as an enabling friend and Ray Nicholson continues proving his own second-gen acting meddle as one of the robbers. Matt Walsh and Betty Gabriel are also solid as a pair of cops trying to catch up to Nathan’s rampage. It’s a good ensemble and everyone is keyed into the film’s specific tone, most of the jokes land, and all of the visual gags work. 

Does Novocaine make sense? Not particularly. Is it entertaining anyway? YES. It’s tempting to compare Novocaine to John Wick, based on the propulsive, action-oriented plot and excellent fight scenes, but Novocaine is closer to the Jason Statham classic, Crank. It’s just high-octane nonsense from minute one that escalates to a truly absurd finale—with a supremely gross final kill—which revels in its own silliness. Half the charm of Novocaine is Jack Quaid’s screen presence, but the other half is pure commitment to the bit. Actually, based on the gross out factor, a good comparison would also be The Garbage Pail Kids Movie. Novocaine is to John Wick as The Garbage Pail Kids Movie is to E.T.

Novocaine is now playing exclusively in theaters.

 

Here's Jack Quaid in New York last week promoting Novocaine.