Movies

An accidental hero feels no pain in ‘Novocaine,’ a brutal yet weightless action-comedy

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In a simpler and more natural way, the film “Novocaine” showcases Jack Quaid’s versatility as an actor, convincingly portraying a character who romances a girl, takes down bad guys, and entertains audiences. However, the movie itself struggles to blend its three genres (romantic comedy, action, and drama) so clumsily that it often stumbles. Directed by Dan Berk and Robert Olsen from a script by Lars Jacobson, the story revolves around Nathan Cane, an assistant bank manager in San Diego who has a rare condition called congenital insensitivity to pain. This means he can’t feel injuries such as cuts, burns, bruises, or broken bones. Despite this, Nathan endures all these injuries and more when the woman he has a crush on, Sherry (Amber Midthunder), is kidnapped by bandits. He’s not a tough guy from the gym, but he’s willing to withstand any pain to save her.

How much credence should we give this scenario? We should probably take it quite seriously given the vivid splatters of blood, the overly dramatic music, and the palpable fear in Midthunder’s eyes. On the other hand, it might not be so serious if we consider the comedic elements that seem to have been hastily added, like the police officer character played by Matt Walsh who constantly complains about how San Diego has deteriorated since “the Chargers and the Clippers left us.

Among all the agonies Quaid experiences, the toughest predicament lies in balancing his tone. He manages to maintain a cheerful demeanor despite being reduced to mincemeat. “I’m okay!” he claims, as a knife pierces his hand. “All good!” he utters, extracting a bullet from his arm with a utility knife. Our collective shivers are elicited more by the sound effects, which provide a gruesome squelch upon the impact of a medieval mace striking Nathan’s back. (“Why?” Nathan sighs in annoyance, as if he were just stuck in a traffic jam.)

In a different phrasing: The comedy sequence is effective, especially when Quaid performs a comical shuffle while an arrow protrudes from his thigh, reminiscent of Chaplin. However, the opening act stands out more, presenting an unusual yet genuine indie romance that manages to make us believe in Nathan’s bond with Sherry, despite its limited scenes. Nathan appears as a typical down-on-his-luck guy – living in a drab apartment, wearing dull corporate attire, and sporting a constantly worried brow. However, he has an unusual backstory: he was raised to fear everything, from burning himself in the shower to accidentally biting his tongue. (Production designer Kara Lindstrom emphasizes this by placing tennis balls on every sharp edge of Nathan’s furniture.) At work, this socially isolated misfit shows compassion towards a financially struggling widower (Lou Beatty Jr.), demonstrating that he does experience emotional pain. Yet, he is taken aback when the office crush accidentally scalds him with coffee and then invites him for lunch, causing him some apprehension.

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In a different wording: Sherry’s aggressive demeanor raises concerns about her possibly suffering from the common affliction of Hollywood characters, known as manic pixie dream girl syndrome. However, the script and Midthunder’s compelling performance reveal that Sherry has personal reasons for her actions, such as protecting the vulnerable. There’s a question we hope she can answer: Given that Nathan doesn’t feel pain, how can he experience pleasure? As Sherry encourages him to try his first solid food, Quaid reacts to the cherry pie just as Meg Ryan once did with a pastrami sandwich in real life. His eyes express pure delight, indicating he’s fallen in love.

Despite anticipating a sudden shift from its delightfully charming atmosphere to one filled with violence and gore, the abrupt tonal change still leaves us reeling, like a powerful blow to the head. Initially, a group of three robbers (Ray Nicholson, Conrad Kemp, and Evan Hengst) burst into Nathan and Sherry’s bank and ruthlessly kill four people in a swift and chilling manner. After this gruesome incident, the movie offers no more heart-fluttering moments, except for Nathan shocking himself with a defibrillator to keep moving. Midthunder’s character is particularly hard hit. She seems as vulnerable as John Wick’s beloved dog.

In this movie, the co-directors Berk and Olsen aim to create a spiritual successor to Jason Statham’s “Crank”, the wildly action-packed film about an assassin who keeps himself alive by self-medicating. Unlike Statham, Quaid doesn’t boast bulging biceps, but he fits the role perfectly. He has a lean, wrinkled physique that gives him an intriguing mix of half-clown, half-man. Wisely, the stunt coordination avoids depicting the main character as a superfighter. Instead, the audience gasps not from his fighting abilities, but from what he’s prepared to do to win: shatter glass with his fists, pick up a scalding cast-iron skillet barehanded, immerse his hand in a deep fryer until it burns like a samosa. A prolonged cringe is elicited when, after seizing and firing a boiling gun, he doesn’t think to drop it. The violence is graphically portrayed in extreme close-ups. Slapstick antics might have garnered more laughter if presented less realistically.

The camera plunges headfirst into the chaos, repeatedly colliding and rebounding with the same rhythm as Nathan’s head injuries. However, it’s more entertaining to witness him endure the torment rather than inflict it. When this fellow lashes out, the result is reminiscent of a rabid rabbit. All you can think is that someone should get him medical attention. (Meanwhile, the directors erroneously believe that we’ll find it more enjoyable in slow motion.) Even during moments intended to elicit applause, such as when Nathan destroys the villain’s swastika mark, one doesn’t wish for such pain on his conscience.

The most effective fight scene revolves around mental conflict. Trickster Nathan manages to stall his executioner’s haste by employing a Br’er Rabbit-like strategy, feigning desperation to quicken the torturer’s actions. “Spare me the pliers, please, not the pliers,” he implores. Keep Quaid away from romantic comedies — please, no genuine romantic comedy for him.

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2025-03-14 02:31

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