If you were to catch “Novocaine” in theaters, you won’t immediately be exposed to a montage of company logos or a title card. Instead, a message from three members of the cast plays, thanking the audience for watching the movie in theaters — “the way the movie was supposed to be experienced.” While I am avidly pro-movie theater and a firm believer that the best way to watch a film is in theaters, the truth is that “Novocaine” is a film that can be watched in a living room instead. In fact, the experience would probably be even better than in the theater. Why? Because “Novocaine” is the ideal living room flick. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Novocaine” follows Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid, “Companion”), an introverted assistant manager at a bank who has an incredibly rare disease called anhidrosis congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis (CIPA), a congenital medical condition which prevents him from feeling physical pain. Nathan lives a mundane day-to-day life, but he appears to be on an upward trajectory after a night out with his work crush, Sherry Margrave (Amber Midthunder, “Prey”). This hope is quickly lost when his bank is held up by a gang of robbers who kidnap and hold Sherry as a hostage. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Nathan decides to track down the robbers in order to save the love of his life, using his inability to feel pain as an advantage against his foes.
The premise of an everyman forced into a dangerous predicament for love is not all that special for an action flick. However, a unique character quirk of Nathan’s makes the film stand out. Action movies aren’t supposed to be realistic, but when the hero leaves almost completely unscathed, the film lacks any sense of consequence. “Novocaine” solves this issue of consequence by giving the audience a valid reason as to why our hero doesn’t feel pain.
If Jack Quaid wasn’t the lead in “Novocaine,” I’m not sure the film would have worked. He is incredibly funny and charming. Think Ryan Reynolds in “Deadpool” but less obnoxious. The quips he drops while getting his ass kicked come off as more endearing than anything else. Quaid simultaneously balances the geeky with the cool, finding the perfect middle between being too shy to talk to women and the badass model of the action flick hero. Quaid delivers a very entertaining performance anyone can find delightful.
With an action flick, a horror romance and a dramatic thriller on the way, 2025 might as well be a career-defining year for Quaid. The star of the show, however, is Jacob Batalon’s (“Spider-Man: No Way Home”) performance as Roscoe, Nathan’s online friend whom he confides in during his perilous journey. If Quaid was reminiscent of Ryan Reynolds in “Deadpool,” Batalon channels Lil Rel Howery in “Get Out,” or even his own performance as Ned in the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Spider-Man franchise. While Batalon’s character is limited to only voiceovers from the phone in the first half of the film, his first on-screen entrance literally made my day: Arriving at the scene to save Nathan, obnoxiously decked out in full biker gear, he dramatically removes his helmet to reveal a dumb grin on his face. His performance embodies the kind of stupid but charming sidekick fun that is sure to get laughs.
When it comes to watching and reviewing an action flick, you can’t just gloss over the action sequences. To put it simply, the action in “Novocaine” is gross and gory, but also riveting. The sequences feel similar to those found in a comic or video game, showcasing outlandish action in smooth and believable scenes thanks to excellent choreography and camerawork. In the film’s first action sequence — which happens to be my favorite — the camera follows Nathan as he gets tossed around in a kitchen. The camera reflects everything that happens to Nathan: tumbling over tables, floating in the air and slamming onto the floor. It’s insanely creative for an action flick.
The action proceeds from this point on in classic video game fashion: Nathan finds himself in a new location, is met with a big bad guy and has to defeat them to proceed. Rinse and repeat. The added element of being unable to feel pain makes for some creative choices during the action sequences that are, at first, pretty thrilling. Admittedly, though, the film does get tiring as the action sequences go on. Since “Novocaine” centers on the whole pain shtick, the sequences become formulaic and predictable, though not to the extent that it ruins the fun of the movie completely.
That is really what “Novocaine” is at its core: fun. Nothing more, nothing less. The film accomplishes the action flick’s goal of entertaining. Does “Novocaine” have good qualities? Of course. The premise is unique, Quaid is insanely charming and the action sequences are creative. But it is still limited to just good. The film doesn’t excel at anything in particular. In fact, there are aspects of the film that are unremarkable. The plot is a rehash of a story done many times before: Guy must fight to save the woman he loves. The villain comes off as more comedic than intimidating. The action, as mentioned, is predictable to the point that you know the hero will ultimately come up on top. And in all honesty, the film just goes on for too long. “Novocaine” is not a genre-changing film that one must see ASAP. In the end, it’s just a fun action flick.
This is why I say “Novocaine” is the ideal living room movie. Sure, seeing the gory violence and humor on the big screen is fun, but you know what would be better? Putting “Novocaine” on your living room TV screen and lying on the couch. Add a bowl of chips and a friend or two and your experience with “Novocaine” will be a blast. The film is meant to be put on as background noise, one that will grab your attention ten minutes in. It’s a movie put on during a get-together or one that you might find your dad stopping on after first flipping through what seems like a million channels. “Novocaine” is meant to be watched in a lighthearted and casual setting. When the credits roll, you’ll think to yourself, “That was pretty fun.”
Daily Arts Contributor JC Rafal can be reached at rafaljc@umich.edu.
