The Rule of Jenny Pen

James Ashcroft's The Rule of Jenny Pen is a relentless exploration of the horror and vulnerability of aging, set against the grim backdrop of a New Zealand nursing home. With a screenplay co-written by James Ashcroft and Eli Kent, based on Owen Marshall's short story, the film fuses psychological horror and dark humor to deliver a dark but compelling commentary on power dynamics, elder abuse and the inescapable realities of physical and mental decline. While the film has its faults, its thematic depth and the outstanding performances of Geoffrey Rush and John Lithgow make it an important, if polarizing, addition to the horror genre.

The story revolves around Judge Stefan Mortensen, played by Geoffrey Rush, who is forced to move into the Pine Mews Royal Nursing Home after suffering a debilitating stroke. Geoffrey Rush's portrayal of Stefan is complex and deeply human; he exudes a mixture of arrogance, vulnerability and desperation as his once dominant presence is eroded by his failing body. Rush's physique, from his unsteady gait to his slurred speech, lends credibility to his character's decline, creating an empathetic protagonist. However, his fate takes a sinister turn with the introduction of Dave Crealy, played with frightening menace by John Lithgow. Dave, another resident, uses a doll puppet named Jenny Pen to exert his control and terrorize the establishment. John Lithgow's performance as Dave is disconcertingly effective, blending charisma and malevolence to create a villain whose silent cruelty is as unsettling as his outright sadism.

The Jenny Pen puppet becomes a symbol of uncontrolled power and manipulation, her bright, empty eye sockets lending her a malevolent aura. The puppet's grotesque presence reinforces the film's surreal elements, blurring the line between psychological torment and supernatural horror. With Dave and Jenny Pen, James Ashcroft explores the dynamics of bullying, with violence between the elderly serving as a horrifying allegory for power imbalances in society. The setting - a care home where the staff are indifferent and the residents powerless - amplifies the film's claustrophobic tension. Stefan's isolation and helplessness evoke universal fears of abandonment and loss of autonomy, making his struggle against Dave not only physical but existential.

One of the film's strengths lies in its ability to confront the indignities of aging without reducing its elderly characters to mere caricatures. James Ashcroft captures the complexities of the aging process, from physical fragility to the emotional burden of addiction, with unflinching honesty. Yet this authenticity makes the film difficult to watch. The depiction of elder abuse is poignant, and the lack of consequences for Dave's actions heightens the sense of hopelessness. The audience, like Stefan, wonders why the staff remain unmoved by such blatant cruelty, a narrative choice that underscores the systemic neglect often faced by the elderly.

While The Rule of Jenny Pen excels in its performances and thematic resonance, it falters in its pacing and narrative cohesion. The film's 109-minute running time feels stretched, with repetitive scenes that dilute the impact of the central conflict. The final act, while intense, lacks the resolution promised by the film's construction. Instead, the conclusion seems to drag on, diminishing the overall emotional impact. Critics have also pointed out inconsistencies in the film's tone, with its mix of surreal horror and realistic drama sometimes clashing rather than complementing each other.

Despite these shortcomings, The Rule of Jenny Pen remains a visually and sonically arresting film. The distorted sound design and offbeat cinematography immerse the audience in Stefan's disorientated perspective, while the eerie lighting lends Jenny Pen an almost supernatural presence. The technical artistry reinforces the film's unsettling atmosphere, ensuring that the most disturbing moments linger long after the credits roll. Geoffrey Rush and John Lithgow deliver career-defining performances that anchor the film. Geoffrey Rush's transformation from self-assured judge to broken, vulnerable man is heartbreaking, while John Lithgow's portrayal of Dave is a masterpiece of controlled chaos. The dynamic between these two actors elevates the film, making their psychological and physical struggle both captivating and deeply uncomfortable.

The Rule of Jenny Pen is not an easy film to watch, nor one that will appeal to everyone. Its relentless darkness and uncomfortable subject matter make it a difficult experience, but for those willing to engage with its themes, it offers a thought-provoking exploration of aging, cruelty and resilience. James Ashcroft has crafted a horror film that goes beyond scares to probe the deepest fears that accompany aging. Although it doesn't reach the same level of brilliance as his previous work, Coming Home in the Dark, it is a bold and unsettling piece of cinema that confirms Ashcroft as a filmmaker who isn't afraid to tackle difficult subjects. The Rule of Jenny Pen is a testament to the power of horror as a vehicle for social commentary, reminding us that sometimes the scariest monsters are not supernatural but human. It pushes viewers to confront their own discomfort with aging and vulnerability, making it a film that lingers in the mind long after the screen has closed.

The Rule of Jenny Pen
Directed by James Ashcroft
Produced by Catherine Fitzgerald, Orlando Stewart
Written by James Ashcroft, Eli Kent
Starring John Lithgow, Geoffrey Rush, Nathaniel Lees, Thomas Sainsbury, Ian Mune, Maaka Pohatu, Yvette Parsons, Holly Shanahan
Cinematography : Matt Henley
Edited by Gretchen Peterson
Production companies : Light in the Dark Productions
Distributed by IFC Films (United States)
Release date : March 7, 2025 (United States),
Running time : 103 minutes

Seen December 7, 2024 at Max Linder Panorama

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