Few things are more terrifying than the consequences of getting older. Entering old age often comes with the erosion of physical and mental ability. Just one stroke or nasty fall and bam!—loss of independence. Even without a traumatic event, time can chip away at one’s basic faculties, creating a vulnerable state that is often overlooked. The Rule of Jenny Pen does an excellent job in shining a light on the very real experience of the elderly who have been stripped of their autonomy, and the space it creates for abuse and neglect to take hold. The true horror of this film lies as much in the realities of old age as it does in the psychotic figure stalking the halls at night.

Turning Tables

 Adapted for screen by Director James Ashcroft and Eli Kent, The Rule of Jenny Pen (2024) is based on Owen Marshall’s short story of the same name. Judge Stefan Mortensen (Geoffrey Rush) has been transferred to a rehabilitation unit in an elderly care home following a stroke that left him confined to a wheelchair. To the outside world, the facility looks ordinary, but behind closed doors, staff is sparse, consisting of jaded care nurses, inexperienced new hires, and an indifferent administration. The neglect Stefan experiences is not only systemic, but existential, trapped in his own failing body, Stefan finds himself increasingly powerless. David Crealy (John Lithgow) is a fellow patient suffering from dementia. Obsessed with an unnerving baby doll puppet he calls Jenny Pen, they roam the halls at night, subjecting fellow residents to grotesque forms of physical and psychological torment. Unfortunately for Stefan, it seems David and Jenny Pen are determined to make him bend the knee next. 

The Award Goes To…

John Lithgow delivers a masterclass in his portrayal of the diabolical David Crealy. With his rotted tooth grin and beady eyes, the character torments his peers with childlike bullying as often as lethal violence. He seems to enjoy the psychological torture as much as the physical. In one such instance, David, between nights of graphic physical abuse, simply sits on Stefan’s bed talking to Jenny Pen. In a scratchy faux woman’s voice, Jenny Penn and David go back and forth for several minutes, setting up an elaborate joke to which the punch line is a racist jape against the Mãori people. As simple and seemingly unremarkable as this is in comparison to David’s much more devastating actions, it illustrates the character’s genuine love of hurting people. Whether he is coaxing a dementia patient to her untimely demise, ripping out a man’s catheter, or simply insulting someone, he derives great pleasure from the power. David Crealy is a middle school bully, grown up and granted full autonomous power. With a disturbing blend of slapstick charm and sadistic cruelty, Lithgow creates a persona truly anxiety-inducing. His silly games and voices, combined with his sinister delight, keep the audience off kilter throughout.

Geoffrey Rush’s portrayal of Stefan drips with bitter intellectualism and an almost misanthropic disdain for those around him.