His love for Sherry pulses through his veins, motivating him to act erratically and tune into survival mode. “Get the girl, no matter what.” Bullets are flying. Knives are swinging. Punches are landed left and right. From this descriptor, one’s mind heads to the chase revenge thrillers in the B-movie range. It has many trademarks these types of films have in their arsenal. Kept packed, lean and mean, they go at you hundreds of miles per hour with tons of action sequences and blood spilled, enough to cover the screen in crimson red. They usually run for about eighty to ninety minutes, as their concepts are not substantial enough to warrant more.
As we say in Puerto Rico: “no estires el chicle.” In film terms, this means not taking too much time to develop something to the point where it loses its impact and fire. While “Novocaine” does have some occasional sparks in its fight sequences and does get bloody when it needs to, the film loses its sense of self by stretching the “painless” vigilante concept way too thin.
Fighting For the Girl of Your Dreams Until He Bleeds
“Novocaine” is the nickname high-school bullies gave to Nathan because of his condition. The man couldn’t feel pain, so the bullies beat him up for fun just to see how much Nathan could handle. Nothing worked, so they kept throwing punches away. Because of these experiences during his childhood, Nathan decided to seclude himself from the world. He hides behind video games and health books. Nathan works at a bank as an assistant manager; he never leaves the office during work hours nor goes out for drinks during happy hour afterward with his co-workers. But all of this changes when an incident involving the spilling of a hot coffee introduces him to Sherry, the film’s pixie dream girl and love interest.
With secrets of her own, Sherry begins to understand him. The two immediately click and hit it off, leaving Nathan as a happy-go-lucky man who has experienced love and tenderness for the first time. However, the dark grey clouds over his recently sunshine-filled world. An armed robbery takes place at the bank, with four men dressed as Santa hitting the safe for a significant amount of cash. As a form of leverage (*spoilers*), they kill the manager and take a hostage, Sherry. This leads Nathan to a path of vengeance induced by love. He searches every corner and hiding spot for the criminals as Nathan is chased by the local police, who believe he is a part of the scheme. Will Nathan survive long enough to see the girl of his dreams again?
Directors Berk and Olsen act fast before the bank robbery. They briefly introduce the two main characters and their respective woes. It is all seen through a comedic eye, which mostly felt like a rom-com was surging. But then they instantly cut to the high-octane, fast-paced action, not letting the characters or audience breathe. There is little room to wiggle in. There is no time for decision-making—follow your heart. And Nathan does so, which leads him to treacherous territories with unfriendly people at the front door. The antagonists adhere to violence without remorse.
Repetitive Fights Scenes and Low Comedy Dent ‘Novocaine’
Every weapon is at their disposal, which is why Nathan gets creative. A hand full of glass; a tattoo needle into the throat; a deep-fried gun; bear-mace to the eyes. Each scenario escalates into chaos and gore as Nathan treats his wounds. However, despite some well-shot choreography in the action, albeit repetitive and mundane, something about these scenes feels off. It concerns the viewer not feeling the pain behind each gunshot or bruise. There is no physicality behind each fight. A proper fight scene can transmit the impact and pain for those partaking in it, whether by focusing on each blow or a play in the editing.
This pain-free gimmick robs the fights of impact, making them feel weightless rather than brutal. In between the jokes and fights lies an annoyance that ruins the entire experience. Jack Quaid does have that look on his face and tone in his voice that matches the character well. But the lines he is given are quite bothering. It all feels childish. As each fight gets bloodier, the comedy becomes more grating. And having such “Deadpool”-like quips in every scene—you are left tired and bored. You feel this especially during the last act, where the film takes too many turns and does extend its welcome for about twenty minutes or so. At a tight 80 minutes, “Novocaine” could have been a fun, fast-paced thriller.
Instead, it stretches its concept too thin, adding unnecessary fights, locations, and quips that dilute its impact—especially in the final act. It all becomes a giant blur, a film for a moment or two with no staying power. There have been many B-movie-like studio pictures that have a unique concept through a generic or repetitive mold. Think about the “Transporter” or “Crank” series of Jason Statham pictures. The difference between them and “Novocaine” is that they do what is on the tin and get out and have memorable scenes. Considering the concept and its ability to be played with, Berk and Olsen adhere to cheap meta-comedy and repetition to build their film around in, and that, alongside a generic feeling of it all, makes the film fall flat.
