‘Novocaine’ Review: Jack Quaid Is A Shot In The Arm For Solid But Uneven Comedic Thriller

Gregory Nussen
·5-min read

The template for a Jack Quaid character is clear: balance him on the precipice between aggressiveness and passivity before splattering him with blood. Between Scream, Companion, The Boys and even his voice work on Star Trek: Lower Decks, Quaid has asserted himself as a sweet, quippy punching bag, a Buster Keaton for white guys who may or may not be an incel in waiting.

Novocaine seems especially crafted with Quaid’s ongoing screen presence in mind. It is nothing if not a continuation of a theme, both for Quaid and for the John Wick-ification of action films. Like Wick, Nathan Caine (Quaid) is an unassuming, socially awkward shut-in who possesses a unique set of dormant skills that get unleashed by unpredictable (and exceptionally violent) external forces. Except, in this instance, our hero’s skills take the form of an exceedingly rare disease and not so much the ability to fight. Caine has CIPA (congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis), which, according to a study in 2012, only affects around 1 in 125 million, and which more or less means he has no pain receptors.

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Caine is an assistant manager at the San Diego Trust Credit Union, a job he seems to take rather seriously, at times skirting protocol to take pity on clients. Quaid excels at playing the Good Guy, and directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen utilize his flummoxed stammering well, showing us a young man whose gift is ironically offset by a debilitating fear of death — or, for that matter, anything at all that carries with it any degree of risk. That includes talking to his longtime work crush, Sherry (Amber Midthunder), a teller who is everything Nathan is not: a natural social lubricant, energetically buoyant and unafraid of confrontation.

Midthunder and Quaid have great chemistry and the film is never better than it is in its first act in which the two dally in a sincerely believable, sweet and vulnerable beginning of a romance. Even Caine’s disability is treated with a surprising gravitas; as he explains to Sherry on their first date, he was systematically suppressed by terrified parents and by bullies who found his illness amusing (the title comes from the inadvertently cool, superhero-like nickname his bullies gave him as a middle schooler). But, no sooner have the two begun something special than Sherry is kidnapped as part of a robbery by three Santa suit-clad thieves in a violent heist at their place of work and the film drifts into sketch territory. Fueled by the fear that his new romantic partner might be stripped from him forever, Caine goes on a daring vigilante mission to save her, backed by the full knowledge that no matter of pain can slow him down — which gives the filmmakers license to throw him around like a rag doll, to mixed comedic results.

The patience granted the budding romance paves the path for a very clean ascendance into amusing chaos. It is a simple, but effective set up. Yet, the sterility of Lars Jacobson’s A-B-C script is also its frequent thorn. After its well-paved first half, it shifts into treating Caine’s condition like a silly and trite gag. Quaid does his best but the blankness of his character’s canvas is overwhelming. Further, the film constantly feels painfully aware of the audience, persistently putting Caine in wacky set pieces whose primary function is to remind us that this is someone who does not possess the awareness of pain that we have. The scenarios they’ve put Caine in, the close-ups and camera movements, are all specifically chosen for our discomfort. Which can make the film feel untethered from the semblance of reality it tries to hard to create early on.

The film is far better and more successful when Caine’s ability (or disability) is showcased naturally. The good: having to plunge his hand into a deep fryer to fetch a fallen gun. The silly: finding himself caught in a paranoiac’s booby-trapped house amongst escalating, screwball-like contraptions so that we may squirm while Caine does not. Good: deliberately allowing his hands to be pierced by shards of glass to transform his body into a Swiss-army knife. Confusing: how Caine can MacGyver a defibrillator in a way that harms a villain but not himself. Once we are aware of the gambit, the game exhausts itself more often than it succeeds.

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In the end, Berk & Olsen have trouble striking the right tone. This is not the blistering action satire that Hot Fuzz is, but it’s not the somber, balletic revenge plot of Wick, either. Novocaine is, frequently, a riot, but one wishes Jacobson’s script would have gone through another draft to iron out some flimsier details. It doesn’t help that some late plot developments feel bizarrely convenient or else invalidate much of its own setup.

RELATED: Jack Quaid On The ‘Companion’ Stunt That Gave Him The “Heebie-Jeebies”: “I Couldn’t Do It”

All of that would be okay if it leant harder into its more scuzzy, parodic elements. Which it does from time to time, as in its very title, or via Matt Walsh’s beleaguered, sardonic police detective. Other times, the film feels too coy, as if embarrassed by itself. Nonetheless, Novocaine is a really solid comedic thriller and yet another strong showcase for Quaid. The action scenes — even when they defy logic — have a pleasurable propulsion, shot as they are with keen attention to danger, even if our protagonist is unaware of its existence.

Title: Novocaine
Distributor: Paramount
Release date: Friday, March 14, 2025
Directors: Dan Berk & Robert Olsen
Screenwriter: Lars Jacobson
Cast: Jack Quaid, Amber Midthunder, Ray Nicholson, Betty Gabriel, Matt Walsh, Lou Beatty Jr., Evan Hengst, Conrad Kemp, Jacob Batalon
Rating: R
Running time: 1 hr 50 mins

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