Directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen, known for their work on Villains and Body, team up once again for Novocaine—a film that hits like a nerve-snapping jolt. This kinetic, gritty action-comedy follows Nate (Jack Quaid), a man born with a rare genetic condition that prevents him from feeling physical pain. What sounds like a superhero origin story quickly turns into something much more grounded—and much more disturbing.
Nate’s life is anything but easy. Despite being immune to pain, he must live with constant caution. He survives on a liquid diet to avoid chewing through his own tongue and uses alarms to remind himself when to urinate, lest his bladder rupture unnoticed. But when a violent bank robbery forces his hand, Nate finds that his peculiar condition might make him uniquely suited for vengeance.
By day, Nate is the timid assistant general manager of a small-town bank. He’s quietly infatuated with Sherry (Amber Midthunder), a bold and outspoken bank clerk who seems to genuinely like him back. After a spontaneous, passionate night, Nate is over the moon—until armed thieves dressed in Santa costumes, led by the manic and unpredictable character played by Ray Nicholson, raid the bank and abduct Sherry.
With his heart on the line and nothing to lose, Nate embarks on a high-stakes rescue mission across the city. Along the way, he encounters bullets, fire, booby traps, and more than a few broken bones—all of which he shrugs off, literally. What unfolds is an adrenaline-fueled chase filled with brutal violence, physical comedy, and just enough heart to keep you rooting for him.
Novocaine doesn’t shy away from discomfort. The film leans into its graphic moments, often lingering on injuries that would make most audiences wince. But these scenes are executed with such deliberate style that they serve not just as spectacle, but as a narrative tool. Screenwriter Lars Jacobson crafts a script that’s smart, sharp, and surprisingly self-aware, using physical trauma for both laughs and emotional beats without ever losing momentum.
Despite Nate’s undying devotion to Sherry driving the plot, the romantic chemistry between Quaid and Midthunder doesn’t quite land. Their on-screen connection feels a bit forced, lacking the emotional spark needed to fully sell the film’s more heartfelt moments. While the movie intentionally frames Nate as a hopeless romantic whose love fuels his fury, the relationship never quite evolves beyond surface level.
The script briefly gestures toward emotional depth through shared vulnerability, but this theme remains underdeveloped. Even though a slightly awkward love story can fit well in a film with such a twisted sense of humor, it still needed more emotional payoff to balance the carnage.
Fortunately, Novocaine compensates in other areas. Rather than relying solely on shock value, the film showcases inventive action sequences that are both chaotic and carefully crafted. Jack Quaid delivers a standout performance, leaning into his usual “nice guy in over his head” persona but adding a layer of scrappy determination and surprising grit. His portrayal brings balance to the absurdity, anchoring the movie with a character you want to follow—even when he’s getting pummeled.
In the end, Novocaine is a wild, over-the-top thrill ride that embraces its blend of action, comedy, and horror. Berk and Olsen combine their genre experience into a tightly paced, blood-soaked adventure that’s as funny as it is violent. With its unique premise and fearless execution, the film delivers an experience that will have you laughing, cringing, and maybe even clenching your own fists in sympathetic pain—unlike Nate, who wouldn’t feel a thing.
