The Rule of Jenny Pen

In 2021, Kiwi filmmaker James Ashcroft made his feature debut with the lean and unforgiving thriller Coming Home in the Dark. While his follow up discards the taut terror of a road picture in favor of lunacy and a hand puppet, The Rule of Jenny Pen mines similar tensions. Vulnerability, institutional ignorance, helplessness, bullying—Jenny Pen comes at it from a different angle, but the damage done bears a tragic resemblance.

The great Geoffrey Rush is Judge Stefan Mortensen, a self-righteous ass who finds himself institutionalized after a stroke. But as soon as he’s better, he’ll be out of there. In the meantime, he will berate and belittle staff and patients alike—even his kind roommate, Sonny (Nathaniel Lees).

But Dave Creely (John Lithgow, never creepier) doesn’t think the judge is going anywhere. He doesn’t think he’s such a much, if you want to know the truth, and he looks forward to pressing every vulnerability the judge has, terrorizing him until he breaks him. Just as Dave has broken every other patient at the home—with the help of his bald little hand puppet, Jenny Pen.

Back in the Sixties, hagsploitation (or psycho-biddie films) featured middle aged women with likely mental health concerns that led to various kinds of horror: What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?; Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte; Strait-Jacket. The women’s age was what made them suspect, the films reveling in the grotesquerie of their images.

Lately, though, filmmakers are realizing that the more powerful horror mines our own fears by empathizing with the aged characters, forcing us to see through their eyes. Relic, Bingo Hell, The Taking of Deborah Logan, The Demon Disorder and Bubba Ho-Tep all focus on the inevitable and terrifying vulnerabilities of aging.

The Rule of Jenny Pen fits neatly into this real estate. Ashcroft’s direction situates the sadistic within the well-meaning. Hospital staff, visiting musicians, family members—all genuinely hope to make the world better for these patients. But this is a world Dave knows well, and he exploits every opportunity to wield his and Jenny’s sadistic power.

Lithgow’s a maniac, making the most of his substantial physical presence among the fragile patients and delivering the most unseemly moments with relish. And Rush is his absolute equal. The veteran broadcasts pomposity with rigid authenticity that only lends power to the judge’s most helpless moments.