Reviews

‘The Rule of Jenny Pen’ Review: Behold the Ravages of Age

September 21st, 2024 | By Matthew Monagle

It’s an old adage of mine that the best horror films are willing to risk being bad in the pursuit of being great. By that, I mean that movies are willing to take big swings that will turn away big chunks of their audience even as they encourage a chosen few to fall head-over-heels in love. And that feels like an accurate description of The Rule of Jenny Pen, James Ashcroft’s treatise on aging and cruelty that never holds back – for better and for worse.

Stefan (Geoffrey Rush) is a man used to power. As a lifelong judge, he has wielded justice in his courtroom with complete disdain for others. So when he finds himself in a budget retirement community recovering from a stroke, Stefan assumes his stay will be brief. That is, until he meets Dave (John Lithgow), an alleged dementia patient who stalks the halls at night with a hand puppet named Jenny Pen to administer beatings and acts of cruelty on the other residents. And because Stefan dares hold his ground, Dave makes breaking him his greatest achievement yet.

You see, Dave explains, Stefan is running out of time. The stroke that he survived will not magically reverse itself, no matter how loudly Stefan claims that his stay will be short-lived. And because Dave plays his part all too well – seeming docile when any of the staff are present – Stefan fails to enlist the other retirees or the staff to take a stand. If Stefan is going to avoid having his life turned into a living hell, he must figure out a way to deal with Dave and the plastic tyrant that sits upon his wrist.

In a career peppered with standout performances, this may be one of Lithgow’s best. The film plays perfectly to Lithgow’s strengths as both the dead-eyed villain of yesteryear and the kindly elder statesman of the industry that he is now. Most importantly, the movie avoids any ambiguity about Dave’s mental state. We quickly see him for who he is: a man who is lucky enough to enjoy good health when others do not, and who finds himself in a position to dole out his retribution for a lifetime of disappointment. While the onscreen acts of cruelty are a horrible delight, some of the movie’s greatest moments are just the image of Lithgow’s Dave staring down anyone who might be stupid enough to cause a fuss.

And the exaggerated nature – dare I say campiness – of Lithgow’s performance also helps the movie navigate its tricky subject matter. There is a version of The Rule of Jenny Pen that could feel deeply exploitative, with Ashcroft and company playing up the horrors of aging to make the entire retirement community feel grotesque. That is not the case here.

For the most part, The Rule of Jenny Pen achieves a kind of pulp profundity, using John Lithgow’s performance as a Trojan horse for more sober explorations of ageism and power. Ashcroft and cowriter Eli Kent are also confident enough in the material not to underline the film’s sharpest barbs. Although Stefan and Dave come from very different backgrounds, we are meant to take note of the power they wield within their environments and how cruel that power has encouraged them to become. We are also meant to note how easily Dave is able to avoid the attention of the staff – well-meaning though they may be, their not-so-subtle ageism prevents them from seeing him as someone capable of these acts of terror.

But balancing two wildly different tones can be a challenge, and for as often as The Rule of Jenny Pen is a compelling marriage of the sober and the grotesque, there are times when the story seems uncertain as to which version of itself should win out. The film evokes the experience of sitting at a stoplight and watching the blinkers of the cars ahead of you – it’s worth it for those stretches when the two lights are perfectly in sync, but those moments never last forever. Throw in what amounts to a double ending and The Rule of Jenny Pen falters just a bit too much to keep things together when it matters most.

Still. For those stretches when the film works – when Lithgow’s dead eyes speak to countless cruelties and the film taps into the true injustice of growing old – The Rule of Jenny Pen is the kind of big swing you love to see from modern horror filmmakers. Perhaps Ashcroft and company should be recognized for the first-ever horror adaptation of a common platitude: as the saying goes, in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king, and Jenny Pen shows just what can happen when someone with a piece of power begins to hold with impunity. May each of us have two feet in the grave before we are forced to face our own Jenny Pens. [3.5 / 5]