Novocaine (2025) review

Dir. Dan Berk and Robert Olsen

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★

Novocaine is what last month’s Love Hurts should’ve been: an effective amalgam of comedy and fisticuffs action that is often unpredictable, frequently hilarious, well-plotted, and damn romantic, all in a tight, sub-two hour runtime.

A great title is a terrible thing to waste, and thankfully, screenwriter Lars Jacobson and the directing team of Dan Berk and Robert Olsen make sure the film itself is as clever as its main character’s nickname. You see, Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid) is a pretty milquetoast assistant bank manager, his only friend being a fellow loner named Roscoe (Jacob Batalon), a gamer whom he has never met in person. There’s at least a reason for his quiet, doldrum life. Nathan has congenital analgesia, an ultra-rare genetic condition that deadens his nerves, so he cannot feel pain of any kind. Nathan got the nickname “Novocaine” in middle school, where he got endless ass-kickings by kids who marveled at his inability to feel the body-blows.

After Nathan finally gets the courage to talk to his coworker, Sherry (Amber Midthunder), the two go on a date that goes as well as it possible could. Life is looking up, until the following day, Christmas Eve, when three robbers dressed as Santa Claus storm the bank, kill the manager, rough up Nathan, steal thousands, and kidnap Sherry. Not willing to sit back while the woman he’s rapidly falling in love with could be killed, Nathan steals a police car and uses his inability to feel pain as a superpower to rough-up the goons, one of whom played Roy Nicholson (Jack’s son, who shares dad’s haunting, chiseled smile).

Jacobson could’ve had the mayhem begin right away, but instead makes the calculated and braver decision to make the first 30 minutes of Novocaine play like an offbeat rom-com. It doesn’t feel like a superhero origins story either. Quaid and Midthunder are instantly compatible with one another, and the long runway not only helps forge that chemistry, but provide a window into Nathan’s life. We learn that Nathan must adopt a liquid diet out of fear that he wouldn’t be able to tell if he was actually chomping on his tongue. A phone alarm rings every three hours to remind him to pee, for he can’t feel the increased weight of his bladder.

This isn’t a character drama, but I dunno. It’s nice to learn something about our main character before the fighting starts. I’ve accepted the fact that most theatrical films that have a comedic lean these days must include some brain-racking level of violence, so it’s also a relief that Novocaine‘s fight choreography is top notch. Just because Nathan can’t feel pain doesn’t make him immune from having the wind knocked out of him. He’s not invincible, but he’s wickedly smart, which allows him to outsmart his enemies more-so than pummel them into submission. One of the finest set-pieces is a battle with an enormous goon who looks like Sid Haig if he became a professional wrestler. Nathan wins the battle on wit as much as he does clever punches.

A gaggle of supporting performers also earn their laughs and leave a presence. Comedian Matt Walsh and Betty Gabriel are both engaging as a pair of San Diego cops hot on Nathan’s trail. Walsh brings the one-liners, including a great dig at the Chargers and Clippers, while Gabriel brings sneaky pathos to the story that circumvents nicely late in the third act. Batalon might not have completely redeemed his atrocious outing in Tarot in my eyes, but he’s on the right track with a movie that utilizes his goofy comic talents well.

I hate to bring up Love Hurts again, but it’s rare we get two fairly similar films in the same short window of time. Even rarer when one will likely end up being one of my picks for worst of the year while the other is one I’d file as a pleasant surprise. Novocaine is a good time at the movies; a medium-budget star vehicle that’s delightfully unpretentious and amusing. That never goes out of style.

Starring: Jack Quaid, Amber Midthunder, Ray Nicholson, Jacob Batalon, Betty Gabriel, Matt Walsh, and Craig Jackson. Directed by: Dan Berk and Robert Olsen.