Meet THE NUMBER ONE ACTION HERO IN AMERICA till that new Jason Statham flick opens next weekend!

Fellow Gen-X-ers may recall the hubbub back in the day whenever an upcoming action flick would star an unlikely hero we couldn’t possibly imagine punching out baddies or doing acrobatics or reeking of the slightest machismo. Folks were skeptical about Moonlighting wisecracker Bruce Willis starring in Die Hard and comics fanboys all but rioted when Mr. Mom funnyman Michael Keaton became the new Batman. Soon after release, most naysayers shut up and enjoyed the redefinition of terms of big-screen engagement. The era of the bitter, growly, musclebound manly-men had to make room for the unlikeliest of butt-kickers. They didn’t put Schwarzenegger out of work, but more than a few guys with low charisma and dimmer people skills were increasingly relegated to Blockbuster shelves or adapted to new lines of work, such as Academy Award-Winning director Dirty Harry Callahan.

Fast-forward to today and anyone can be an action star thanks to recent advancements in movie magic, and not just via Paul Blart spoofery. All you need is the right combination of precise fight choreography, brilliant stunt people, way too much julienne-sliced editing, and actors willing to throw themselves into the physical challenges to the extent their somatotypes and insurers will allow. I for one applaud the democratization of action heroism, from Bob Odenkirk in Nobody to Allison Janney in Netflix’s Lou, among numerous others whose past roles never implied the slightest interest in winning at shoot-’em-ups. Our latest combatant who won’t be appearing in a Super Smash Bros. sequel is Jack Quaid, star of the bloody indie dramedy Novocaine.

Granted, his very first film role dabbled in melees — at age 20 he was Marvel, one of The Hunger Games‘ brutal big-bads from District 1. The book told us Marvel was at least slightly intimidating, but Quaid’s version only got 2½ minutes’ screen time and never showed off the sort of physique one might need to commit post-apoc natural-selection butchery. In recent times Quaid’s been specializing in spindly tech-geeks who have no business being on battlefields but stressfully acquire the necessary survival skills through luck, ingenuity, and friends who keep saving their hides till they level up. Our household esteems him as the voice of LTJG Bradward Boimler on Star Trek: Lower Decks, but fans of grimdark antiheroics follow him as the gradually toughening Hughie Campbell on The Boys. He also took a side trip to Scream V, where subverting leading-man expectations and copious bleeding were likewise integral to his Concerned Boyfriend role. His lineage serves him well, fusing the dramatic chops of dad Dennis and the sensitive side of mom Meg Ryan, adding his own penchant for whimsical irony that undercuts either or both sides at will.

Boys‘ bingers have gotten so used to the sight of a panic-stricken Quaid screaming while drenched in blood, they may be nonplussed by his latest big-screen role, a logical next step on his resumé. In Novocaine he’s the improbably comic-book name Nathan Caine, an assistant bank manager in San Diego born with Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis, a real-life genetic condition — those affected are completely unable to feel any pain. Defying CIPA’s high mortality rate — given how many habits and functions the average human learns through pain as negative reinforcement — Nathan has survived into adulthood through an overabundance of precaution. He keeps to a liquid diet, pads the corners on all his furniture, and avoids anything that might be dangerous or damaging…including, metaphorically, relationships. He doesn’t discuss his upbringing despite the generous screen time afforded here for the character setups and interplay, but presumably any past potential friends or lovers were just too weirded out…possibly due to his sheer dorkiness without CIPA coming up at all.

He’s cool with his straight-laced day-job and his online video-gaming nights till one day he falls in love with one of his own employees. Amber Midthunder (Prey, Legion) is a teller named Sherry who indulges him in a date and next thing we know they’re head over heels over the moon for each other. His feels might be a tad more intense than hers, what with the inexperience and dorkiness and all. Then, more or less the very next day after, his newfound ecstasy crashes hard when a trio of grungy Santas with automatics (led by Smile 2‘s Ray Nicholson, son of Jack!) pull an old-fashioned bank robbery, take Sherry hostage, and cause major Point Break chaos on their way out. Nathan is beside himself — what’s a gawky nebbish who’s led an extremely insulated life, fearing for the life of his true love these past eighteen whole hours, supposed to do? Let the police handle it? In a movie?

Intense trauma and even intenser puppy love prove a volatile mix: of course this meek milquetoast overrides any and all fears and gives chase to her captors, just that overwhelmed by The Greatest Night of His Entire Life and single-minded in his sudden-onset white-knight syndrome. His lifelong liability becomes his greatest advantage: they can’t stop him if they can’t hurt him. Well, check that: he easily loses dozens of health points in multiple altercations and accidents, but he isn’t inclined to chicken out if he can’t actually hurt. Car crash? Countless punches? Hot kitchen utensils? Bullets? He feels them happening, but his nerves don’t register the damage with his brain. So he keeps on going, because he must save the princess in her castle.

At first Nathan seems even less suited for fisticuffs than season-1 Hughie, but co-directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen (Paramount+’s Significant Other) and writer Lars Jacobson (Day of the Dead: Bloodline) fudge his learning curve for the sake of getting the film to last beyond the one-hour mark. So they credit Nathan’s heretofore untapped squirrelly nature — a lifetime of pent-up athletic energy? — as well as a convenient adrenaline shot (many a hero’s boost of choice ever since Pulp Fiction gave it magic-potion status) and, y’know, True Love and whatnot. He soldiers on through a hail of weaponry borne out of slasher films and/or Looney Tunes (a trip-wired ceiling mace?), the black humor alternately giggly and gory.

Novocaine isn’t a superhero film per se — Nathan doesn’t have regenerative powers like Deadpool, Wolverine, or vampires. He makes lots of stops to treat his wounds before heading to the next dungeon. Part of the tension in this “game” is wondering how many pieces Quaid will be in by the climax. As is his specialty, he’s all boyish charm and anxious desperation, but he can unsheathe just enough of an unexpected edge that we take him seriously when he strikes back. Nathan’s obliviousness is the source of the biggest laughs even in the darkest moments, as when he’s being tortured by one robber and has to stall for time by feigning agony, which he performs as poorly as a B-movie victim, capped with a couple of Boimler-esque shrieks.

Fans showing up for Quaid’s performance won’t be disappointed, despite other flaws. Nicholson, enjoying one of his larger parts to date, is a great foil for him — suitably cocksure as the final boss who thinks he’s always the smartest guy in the room, and sometimes he’s even right. But a couple of plodding, dialogue-heavy scenes in Act Two could’ve used someone on set yelling “FASTER! FASTER!” at the actors. Some of the physical destruction seems like it should be much more debilitating even without the corresponding urge to recoil in horror. The worst sins may not be the filmmakers’ fault: nearly all the best parts were spoiled in the trailers, whether shown in their entirety or hinted broadly enough to anticipate minutes ahead. Here in A.D. 2025 how do we still have trailer editors who think the best way to sell a movie is to give away the good-parts supercut version for free? Are actual internet pirates taking those jobs now?

Fortunately Novocaine‘s trailers don’t spoil a couple of twists (though they aren’t too challenging to predict), and the film delivers on their promises: Quaid playing to his strengths in a world where our action heroes don’t always have to be the guys with the biggest biceps or the surliest voices or the years of professional training. It might oversell the notion of leaning into your disability as a means to commit near-paranormal astonishing feats, so impressionable viewers should maybe not try any of these stunts at home without direct movie-magic assistance.

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Meanwhile in the customary MCC film breakdowns:

Hey, look, it’s that one actor!: Jacob Batalon (Ned Leeds from the most recent Spider-Man trilogy) is Nathan’s only known friend, a fellow gamer who’s never actually met him IRL till just now. The police working the robbery are Veep‘s Matt Walsh and Betty Gabriel (Get Out, Jack Ryan), practically reprising her homicide detective from Upgrade. The other robbers include Evan Hengst from Lioness.

How about those end credits? No, there’s no scene after the Novocaine end credits, but they do acknowledge what might be the first “Prosthetic Tattoo Artist” I’ve ever seen (it makes sense in context), and the Special Thanks include John Wick’s creator Derek Kolstad, one of the biggest inspirations for all these unlikely-action-star films, even though Wick was totally not unlikely to do what he did best.