Writer and director James Ashcroft’s last feature, Coming Home in the Dark, was a bleak and brilliant road movie that instantly became one of THN’s favourite films of recent years. We granted the film the full five star treatment thanks to the combination of Daniel Gillies’ superb performance as an unhinged psychopath, and Ashcroft’s ability to wring every drop of dread and tension from each and every film frame. Expectations for his follow-up, The Rule of Jenny Pen, have therefore been very high; can Ashcroft do it again?
Set within the confines of a nondescript nursing home, The Rule of Jenny Pen, sees Geoffrey Rush’s all business judge move into the establishment after suffering a stroke. Hoping his stay is temporary, the judge tries to wait out his time, but his plan comes unstuck thanks to one of the other residents. This man, played by John Lithgow, rules the nursing home alongside his infant puppet Jenny Pen with an iron fist. A battle of wills then begins, can the Judge survive this psychopathic menace? Or is he destined to become yet another yes man like all the other residents?
As with Coming Home in the Dark before it, The Rule of Jenny Pen is a brilliant exercise in creating and maintaining tension. From very early on The Rule of Jenny Pen becomes steeped in malice to the point that it almost drowns the viewer with its potency. Like Coming Home in the Dark, The Rule of Jenny Pen is a tough viewing ordeal, albeit for slightly different reasons. Both films see the lead taken hostage by an unhinged mind, however, this scenario feels somehow worse in The Rule of Jenny Pen due to just how isolated Rush’s character becomes. The family trapped in Ashcroft’s previous film had little opportunity for help, but within the setting of an elderly care home, assistance should be in abundance for the Judge. Instead however the staff are oblivious and take no mind of all of the man’s complaints against his aggressor.
Another aspect that makes The Rule of Jenny Pen almost unbearable to watch is its primary content – elder abuse. Tragically stories about bad care homes are a regular feature of the news, but no matter their frequency, they never get any easier to handle. The thought of an elderly relative having to suffer the indignity of some of these places is hard to stomach and so any film that enacts elder abuse online is difficult to endure. A point of difference here is that it is elder on elder abuse, but that does not help defuse the tension. At the same time as triggering the audience with Lithgow’s sadistic pensioner, there is something universal about the Judge’s situation. When boiled down, The Rule of Jenny Pen is a film about bullying, an experience which transcends age and taps into uncomfortable feelings for those young and old.
Although Ashcroft’s direction is superb, it is the performances of both Geoffrey Rush and John Lithgow that really sell the story. Both actors have a long history of commanding and compelling performances and The Rule of Jenny Pen is yet another career best for the duo. As the Judge, Rush is an excellent mix of stubborness, morality and, at least initially, entitlement. Watching his character get broken down again and again is devastating to witness. That the Judge fights so hard against his bully makes him a ‘victim’ that the audience can root for.
In contrast there are no redeemable features to Lithgow’s tormentor. This is a man that revels in the pain, humiliation and discomfort of those around him, making him the elder poster child for toxic masculinity. Lithogow is one of the few actors that can manage both side-splitting comedy and untouched levels of depraved darkness, and here he channels the latter harder than he ever has before. Gone are all those loveable traits associated thanks to beloved characters such as Third Rock from the Sun’s Dick Solomon, replaced instead with a never ending darkness. Coupling him with a truly hideous baby doll puppet is the icing on the cake, the pair making for an utter nightmare fuel.
Where The Rule of Jenny Pen falls down slightly is during the final act. Whilst the content is fine, there is a sense that the story could, and should finish earlier. After being so bleak and brutal throughout the eventual conclusion feels at odds with what Ashcroft has been building too, and ending a scene or two before it does would make for a worthy gut punch ending. This is only a slight misstep, but one that results in The Rule of Jenny Pen not quite reaching the same impressive heights as Coming Home in the Dark. It is, however, one of the strongest examples of dread-soaked tension of the year so far.
The elderly are so often forgotten on screen, and, when they are seen, are trapped into playing loveable grandparents. In The Rule of Jenny Pen, Ashcroft shifts this perspective and allows the elderly to be human, right down to exhibiting their ability to be cruel. Some will struggle with the elder abuse content, but subject matter aside, The Rule of Jenny Pen is worth watching for the phenomenal performances of Rush and Lithgow alone.
The Rule of Jenny Pen
Summary
James Ashcroft has once more created a film packed with malice and dread, and gets the absolute best out of two of Hollywood’s eldest pros.
The Rule of Jenny Pen was reviewed at Celluloid Screams 2024.
