Nepo baby Jack Quaid has carved out a nice pop culture niche with his Hughie Campbell character on the hit Prime series The Boyz: milquetoasty on the outside but with the soul of a tiger when push comes to shove. He basically recreates the character in this high concept crime action film, where he plays Nathan Caine, who was born with a rare genetic disorder that deprives him of the means to feel pain. Much expository effort is expended early on to explain how this condition rules his life: he only consumes liquid food so as not to accidentally bite off his tongue; keeps a timed beeper that tells him when to pee so that his bladder doesn’t burst; and all manner of sharp corners in his apartment are buffered with sliced tennis balls. To cap the milquetoast image he’s the assistant manager at a SoCal credit union where he keeps to himself, so when a fetching new employee named Sherry (Amber Midthunder) starts flirting with him and invites him out for lunch, he’s not sure how much danger he’s in. As it turns out, it’s more than he possibly could have imagined.

Nate falls hard for Amber, and later, when the bank is robbed by a bunch of masked psychos, they take her hostage after killing the manager and forcing Nate to open the safe. Fueled up by love-released testosterone Nate decides to save Amber and his genetic condition gives him a de facto superpower, since no matter what they do to him he can’t feel discomfort, though he sure can bleed and bruise. The script practically writes itself at this point, and the directors, Dan Berk and Robert Olsen, are careful to peg all the wince-inducing violence to jokes about how nothing really fazes Nate, who feigns suffering with mock dramatic vocal inflections in order to convince his attackers that their beatings and stabbings are having the desired effect, but he just keeps coming back for more.

There’s not much to the movie beyond the no-pain concept, and the story development alternates between multiple predictable plot twists and backstory that explains Nate’s mindset (naturally, he was bullied as a child, since other kids thought they could torture him without consequence). It does end with one of the most knock-down-drag-out fights in action movie history, so if you’re into that kind of thing this is the movie for you, but I wonder what kind of fun is that when every blow results in a wisecrack.

The pain in the trashy erotic thriller Hidden Face is all of the emotional type and affects each of the three principals in different ways and at different times. Set in the world of high-rent classical music, the movie’s characters are types that only exist in this sort of Korean drama, where Schubert is shorthand for iconoclasm and artistic ambition is inseparable from status-seeking. The moody, elitist cellist Soo-yeon (Cho Yeo-jeong) leaves a video message for her fiancee, conductor Seong-jin (Song Seung-heon), saying she’s taking some time off without mentioning what that means and for how long. It’s a problem because she’s one of the chief soloists for the orchestra Seong-jin directs and they’re working on a cello concerto. Under pressure from Soo-yeon’s rich mother, who also runs the orchestra, Seong-jin has to find a replacement and hits on a former fellow student of his fiancee’s named Mi-joo (Park Ji-hun), who happens to have the right qualifications. 

Soon enough, Seong-jin and Mi-joo are getting it on in the finely appointed new house that Soo-yeon’s mother bought for them and which used to be owned by Soo-yeon’s and Mi-joo’s former teacher. Soon enough we learn what has happened to Soo-yeon, and it isn’t nice. In fact, Mi-joo seems to be punishing her, and as the story, which is based on a 2011 Colombian movie, reveals itself through flashbacks and flash-forwards, the various subterfuges of all the characters are revealed. Unsurprisingly, given the amount of money on display and the narrow range of moral rectitude evident among all the main characters, there’s no one to cheer for as they do their best to hurt one another to their own individual advantage. 

It’s nasty fun while it lasts, and the sex is pretty graphic for a mainstream Korean feature, but the motivations are mechanical and the dark humor isn’t pointed enough to burst through the slimy coating of venality for venality’s sake. Hidden Face is a well-made genre exercise without many original ideas.

Novocaine opens today in Tokyo at Toho Cinemas Nihonbashi (050-6868-5060), Toho Cinemas Hibiya (050-6868-5068), Toho Cinemas Shinjuku (050-6868-5063), Toho Cinemas Roppongi Hills (050-6868-5024).

Hidden Face, in Korean, opens today in Tokyo at Shinjuku Piccadilly (050-6861-3011), Human Trust Cinema Yurakucho (03-6259-8608), Human Trust Cinema Shibuya (03-5468-5551).

Novocaine home page in Japanese

Hidden Face home page in Japanese

Novocaine photo (c) 2025 Paramount Pictures

Hidden Face photo (c) 2024 Studio & New, Solaire Partners LLC