Rarely does the title of a film say as much about it as this one does; because by the time you get to the end, there's a good chance you're going to feel quite numb, as if you've been given a body-size shot of novocaine. And it's not because there's so much wrong with this film-- it's just that there's not too much right about it; it's seemingly beyond the help of even it's high profile cast, and that's even if they were, indeed, trying to help in the first place. Unfortunately, the evidence-- with regards to one of the stars of the project, at any rate-- inexplicably points to the contrary, and it leaves `Novocaine,' written and directed by David Atkins, somewhere out on a limb; a precarious place to be, considering that the tree itself was not strong enough to take root in the first place. Simply put, this one's on such shaky ground that you'll be convinced that there has to be a fault line running along beneath it somewhere, and while you're trying to figure out where, you just might miss the point of the whole thing, which is something along the lines of `If You Play With Fire You'll Get Burned.' Or better yet, pick your own platitude and fill in the blank. Either way, there's not going to be any getting around the numb thing. Just accept it, and try to move on.
Frank Sangster (Steve Martin) is a dentist with a successful practice, a beautiful finance, Jean (Laura Dern), and a future that promises more of the same. Until one day out of the blue, Susan (Helena Bonham Carter), a new patient, shows up at his office with a toothache. And before it's over, he gives her a root canal, and she gives him the `works,' which includes wheedling a prescription of Demerol out of him. Can it be she has a drug problem? Can Frank smell scam? Apparently not, because the next day the entire drug supply in his office is missing, and so is Susan. She does leave one of her more personal items behind in the office, however, and when Jean gets wind of it, Frank-- to paraphrase a famous line-- has some splaining to do. And in veritably a nanosecond, the life of one Frank Sangster is turned upside down, and that old gravity, reality, begins it's pull on him; and there's only one way it can possibly take him: Suffice to say, it isn't up.
Bringing a feature film to the screen is no easy task, and it must be especially challenging to make the attempt while wearing two hats (writer and director). And from all appearances, this is where Atkins gets into trouble, as the problems with this film (and there are many) begin with the screenplay. Writer Atkins simply doesn't give director Atkins much to work with, and it just may be that he was too close to his own material, which prevented him from seeing it objectively. And that objective viewpoint is something this film needed. Badly. With the exception of a pivotal element of the climax, there is nothing original about the story at all, and that single element is too ludicrous to be effective, or believable. And therein lies the basic problem with the film: Even if you manage to suspend disbelief while watching it, you would still need an imagination with a Gumby-like flexibility before any of it would seem convincing or the least bit probable. Given a best case scenario, the story just isn't plausible at all. The dialogue is poorly scripted (For instance, as it unfolds, no less than three characters ask Frank, `Can I ask you a personal question?' which is about two times too many to be credible), the execution of the material lacks the fine-tuning it needs and, inexplicably, the actors fail to bring any definition at all to their characters (they needed help, `direction,' and obviously Atkins-- for whatever reason-- was unable to supply it). Filmmaking is inherently a collaborative enterprise, and when a project lacks that cohesive unity, it invariably has a negative impact on the final product. And it certainly does here.
Steve Martin turns in what is arguably the most convincing performance of the film, but it is far from his best work. His portrayal of Frank lacks the nuance he usually brings to the characters he creates, and the result is a fairly nondescript protagonist. And, though Frank comes across as `real' overall, Martin fails to really get into his skin or to explore the motivations that drive Frank on to doing what he does; and because of all that precedes it, as well as the way in which it is presented, what would have been merely a ridiculous ending becomes absolutely ludicrous. Martin has a good go at it, but in the end he barely manages to keep his Frank afloat, and under closer scrutiny, the credibility slowly begins to unravel.
Helena Bonham Carter, meanwhile, gives a performance that doesn't hold up to a casual glance, let alone close scrutiny, and it's one of the biggest surprises of the film. The usually reliable Carter-- who is a terrific, versatile actor-- winds up with possibly the most unrealistic character she's ever created. For this film to work, the audience must believe that Susan is an addict; But there is nothing in Carter's portrayal to confirm, or even indicate, that this is the case. And here, more than anywhere else, is where the credibility of the entire film dissolves, negating any of the more positive aspects in the balance. It's a one-dimensional, one note character, and it takes it's toll on the whole picture.
Laura Dern has also done better work-- though, as Jean, she looks good, and certainly brings a lot of energy to the film. A decent effort, but it's not enough to save `Novocaine,' and-- like the audience-- she gets little return on the investment of her time here. 3/10.
Frank Sangster (Steve Martin) is a dentist with a successful practice, a beautiful finance, Jean (Laura Dern), and a future that promises more of the same. Until one day out of the blue, Susan (Helena Bonham Carter), a new patient, shows up at his office with a toothache. And before it's over, he gives her a root canal, and she gives him the `works,' which includes wheedling a prescription of Demerol out of him. Can it be she has a drug problem? Can Frank smell scam? Apparently not, because the next day the entire drug supply in his office is missing, and so is Susan. She does leave one of her more personal items behind in the office, however, and when Jean gets wind of it, Frank-- to paraphrase a famous line-- has some splaining to do. And in veritably a nanosecond, the life of one Frank Sangster is turned upside down, and that old gravity, reality, begins it's pull on him; and there's only one way it can possibly take him: Suffice to say, it isn't up.
Bringing a feature film to the screen is no easy task, and it must be especially challenging to make the attempt while wearing two hats (writer and director). And from all appearances, this is where Atkins gets into trouble, as the problems with this film (and there are many) begin with the screenplay. Writer Atkins simply doesn't give director Atkins much to work with, and it just may be that he was too close to his own material, which prevented him from seeing it objectively. And that objective viewpoint is something this film needed. Badly. With the exception of a pivotal element of the climax, there is nothing original about the story at all, and that single element is too ludicrous to be effective, or believable. And therein lies the basic problem with the film: Even if you manage to suspend disbelief while watching it, you would still need an imagination with a Gumby-like flexibility before any of it would seem convincing or the least bit probable. Given a best case scenario, the story just isn't plausible at all. The dialogue is poorly scripted (For instance, as it unfolds, no less than three characters ask Frank, `Can I ask you a personal question?' which is about two times too many to be credible), the execution of the material lacks the fine-tuning it needs and, inexplicably, the actors fail to bring any definition at all to their characters (they needed help, `direction,' and obviously Atkins-- for whatever reason-- was unable to supply it). Filmmaking is inherently a collaborative enterprise, and when a project lacks that cohesive unity, it invariably has a negative impact on the final product. And it certainly does here.
Steve Martin turns in what is arguably the most convincing performance of the film, but it is far from his best work. His portrayal of Frank lacks the nuance he usually brings to the characters he creates, and the result is a fairly nondescript protagonist. And, though Frank comes across as `real' overall, Martin fails to really get into his skin or to explore the motivations that drive Frank on to doing what he does; and because of all that precedes it, as well as the way in which it is presented, what would have been merely a ridiculous ending becomes absolutely ludicrous. Martin has a good go at it, but in the end he barely manages to keep his Frank afloat, and under closer scrutiny, the credibility slowly begins to unravel.
Helena Bonham Carter, meanwhile, gives a performance that doesn't hold up to a casual glance, let alone close scrutiny, and it's one of the biggest surprises of the film. The usually reliable Carter-- who is a terrific, versatile actor-- winds up with possibly the most unrealistic character she's ever created. For this film to work, the audience must believe that Susan is an addict; But there is nothing in Carter's portrayal to confirm, or even indicate, that this is the case. And here, more than anywhere else, is where the credibility of the entire film dissolves, negating any of the more positive aspects in the balance. It's a one-dimensional, one note character, and it takes it's toll on the whole picture.
Laura Dern has also done better work-- though, as Jean, she looks good, and certainly brings a lot of energy to the film. A decent effort, but it's not enough to save `Novocaine,' and-- like the audience-- she gets little return on the investment of her time here. 3/10.