The Rule of Jenny Pen
If you’re remotely horrified by how society treats its elderly members and would rather take the Death With Dignity path than live out your final days in an assisted care facility, The Rule of Jenny Pen is the nightmare for you.
This nasty little film comes courtesy of director/co-writer James Ashcroft and pits John Lithgow against Geoffrey Rush in an epic battle of wits and insanity at a New Zealand nursing home. While either gifted actor could play hero or villain with comparable skill — and a remake with their roles swapped would likewise be a treat — Rush plays victim-to-be Stefan Mortensen, a judge who's moved to the Royal Pine Mews Care Home after a stroke paralyzes part of his body.
Surrounded by mostly dementia patients — all chillingly and convincingly played by supporting actors — he stubbornly holds on to the notion that he's better than his fellow residents and will soon be well enough to be discharged, though it quickly becomes clear he’s delusional in regards to his health. Ashcroft shoots these early scenes with a disturbing, no-nonsense intimacy that puts viewers smack dab in Stefan’s mindset and likewise makes them want to escape this hell-on-Earth ASAP.
Such hubris makes The Judge a ripe target for Dave Creaky (Lithgow), who presents by day as a largely nonverbal dementia patient, further selling his condition by wearing a rubber, hollow-eyed babydoll puppet named Jenny Pen, and reinforcing his apparent harmlessness whenever possible to the facility’s staff.
But by night, Dave sneaks into fellow residents’ rooms, terrorizes them through a range of terrifying means, and forces them to capitulate to his puppet's “rule.” Tapping into the psychotic bent that's made him a memorable menace in three Brian De Palma films, Lithgow again excels at breaking bad and finds a worthy adversary in Rush’s rightfully appalled audience surrogate.
Naturally, convincing the staff of Dave’s infractions is a classic fool's errand that only further complicates matters, and for logical layered reasons, Stefan can't even get support from his rugby legend roommate and prime Dave/Jenny victim Sonny (Nathaniel Lees, The Matrix sequels).
As the proverbial walls close in on our man, Ashcroft and co-writer Eli Kent (adapting Owen Marshall’s short story) keep tensions high and provide plentiful showdowns between good and evil, as well as frustrating, insidious actions by Dave in the daytime that illustrate the depth of his soullessness (and devilish power).
However, just as troubling as any present-day action is an illuminating scene involving a wall of photos that plays like a non-supernatural riff on the end of The Shining but is nearly as unsettling as Kubrick’s iconic image precisely because of its realism.
Making the most of a limited budget, Ashcroft crafts a terrific-looking, taut feature that maximizes the talents of his co-leads, who both clearly have plenty of gas left in the ol’ tank. It's a delight to see Rush and Lithgow go head-to-head at this stage of their impressive careers, and The Rule of Jenny Pen offers hope that such juicy roles will continue being offered to our best elder performers.
Grade: B-plus. Rated R. Now playing at Regal Biltmore Grande
(Photo courtesy of Matt Henley)
