Novocaine

Pushing the boundaries of taste by leveraging a real-life affliction for cheap thrills, the go-for-broke audacity in Novocaine takes its one-note premise to ridiculous extremes.

For those willing to play along with the silliness, it adds a fun chapter to the Nobody playbook, chronicling an underdog hero with a heart of gold who finds his purpose and has nothing to lose.

When we first meet Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid), he’s defined by his altruistic nature — for an assistant bank manager — relationship insecurities and affinity for gaming rather than his rare condition, which isn’t nearly as cool as it sounds.

Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis (CIPA) causes an inability to feel pain or certain sensations. While that numbness might shield you from injuries, it also means Nate can’t eat solid foods for fear of biting off his tongue.

The straitlaced Nathan reluctantly shares the details with co-worker Sherry (Amber Midthunder), who finds it charming. “Everybody is hiding something,” she reasons. “We’re all just looking for somebody we can show it to.”

However, their blossoming relationship hits a snag when the bank is robbed and their manager is killed along with the first responders. Sherry is kidnapped by one of the thieves (Ray Nicholson) while concealing secrets about her past. Nathan’s ensuing quest to rescue her tests the limits of his unassuming superpower.

The film gets more mileage than you’d think out of its central gimmick thanks to a clever and amusing screenplay by Lars Jacobson (Day of the Dead: Bloodline) that adeptly sprinkles laughs amid its cartoonish action set pieces. An extended confrontation in a booby-trapped house is simultaneously a knee-slapper and a squirm-inducer.

Quaid (Companion) continues to showcase his leading-man versatility and perhaps shed any “nepo baby” labels. The film isn’t as compelling in the rare moments when he’s not on screen, exposing the thin periphery character development and pedestrian nature of the cat-and-mouse plot.

The directing tandem of Dan Berk and Robert Olsen (Villains) maintains an agreeably cheeky tone, even when the film becomes more predictable in the final act while escalating the mayhem and gore.

“Preferable to dental work” might not be high praise, but Novocaine provides a shot of cinematic adrenaline that eventually wears off.

Rated R, 110 minutes.