Jack Quaid plays Nate Cain, a kind of dorky, buttoned-up middle-manager at a bank. He’s a sweet but reserved young man who happens to be crushing hard on the new bank teller Sherry (Amber Midthunder). Sherry finally asks shy Nate to lunch, then to an art show. But before you have to time to contemplate if Nate and Sherry’s cute first date (or “date,” as some might say the morning after) needs to be reported to HR, the bank where they work is violently robbed and Sherry is taken as a hostage. Now, Nate is no superhero, but when he sees the escape car peel off with his new lady-friend (practically mowing over the bodies of the fallen police), he politely “borrows” a police car and takes chase.
The twist in this tried and true setup is that Nate suffers from a condition where he can’t feel pain. His home life is subdued, he drinks only blended food because he is afraid he’ll bite his tongue off and not feel it, and he’s put carved out tennis balls on all sharp corners to keep from accidentally hurting himself. Nate, to say the very least, is not a risk-taker. But he is now a man head over heels in love for the first time. He is a man who is as surprised as anyone that he chooses violence to save his girl.
Now, if I’m going to be watching a movie as violent and gross-out as Novocaine, it has to be done in the name of good clean fun. Jack Quaid’s everyman appeal is a huge part of the comic success of the movie, and he’s helped along by a tight script (with some twists and surprises), as well as the midpoint introduction of his online buddy Roscoe, played by everyone’s favorite BFF, Jacob Batalon. Ray Nicholson is a standout among the bank robbers/kidnappers, with a freaky, frenetic vibe that is as sexy as it is scary (and my god, those pecs!). The only major players that are a weak link are the cops that are on everyone’s tail—and I blame the script for this (a shame when one of the cops is played by Matt Walsh who seems shackled by his lines).
The rowdy crowd at the screening I attended had a great time, plus I have to give a shout-out to SIFF Uptown for the pre-movie playlist of over half an hour of songs featuring the word “novocaine” (who knew there were so many?). Now I’ll just squinch my eyes to try to un-see some of the carnage inflicted on poor Jack Quaid. Chicken-fried hand, anyone?
