Funereal Plots
Horror Cinema Reviews

Matthew M. Bartlett

The Rule of Jenny Pen

Director: James Ashcroft

Writers: James Ashcroft & Eli Kent

From a short story by Owen Marshall

Stefan Mortensen (Geoffrey Rush) is an imperious judge, stern, sharp, literate, surely a force to be reckoned with. But then, in court, he suffers a stroke that lands him in an elder care facility. There, he shares a room with a former rugby player, clearly also once a figure of strength, strength of the physical variety.

Mortensen quickly learns that there is a terror in the home, in the form of demented bully Dave Crealy (John Lithgow) who wears a doll puppet (the Jenny Pen of the title) on his hand—an extraordinarily sinister-looking baby whose eyes glow with menace and malice. Using the puppet as a mental—and sometimes a physical—bludgeon, Crealy subjects the other residents to abuse and small tortures, right under the noses of the less than vigilant staff. He even leads a few vulnerable oldsters to their deaths.

Much will be made of John Lithgow’s performance, and he is an absolute powerhouse—he gnashes and gnaws the scenery, devours it, really, singing and dancing and mocking and lurking. It is a perfect performance, a tour de force. But Geoffrey Rush kills it too, as his character’s defenses and barriers are broken down, as if the stroke wasn’t enough to lay him low. He expertly essays the brutal combination of outrage and impotence, of fury and vulnerability.

The direction here is exquisite, making Crealy’s doll a larger-than-life thing. Is it supernatural? There’s nothing overt in the film to suggest that it is, and yet the way the doll is filmed—I’m thinking of one brief sequence in particular, so frightening that it’s better seen than described—it seems to be very supernatural, very evil, indeed—and Lithgow helps bring it to dastardly life.

Unlike other movies that feature elderly characters, the men and women in the care home are not figures of fear and not mere victims; they’re not exploited for cheap scares. If there’s a flaw in the movie, it’s merely a quibble: in a scene where Mortensen discovers that Crealy has been at the home since he was young, and that he in fact worked there, the old pictures clearly and distractingly have Lithgow photoshopped in.

Again, though, just a quibble. The Rule of Jenny Pen is a first-rate horror flick, inventive, original, and bolstered by terrific performances, not only by the leads, but by the entire cast. It’ll make you want to check out Ashcroft’s work so far, and happily anticipate whatever he might have in store for us next.

Also, I want that doll puppet.