Horror thrives in situations where someone or something is preying on the vulnerable. It’s a frightening set-up, with probable victims unable to contend easily with these forces by definition. The vulnerability of children (like Pan’s Labyrinth’s Ofelia or The Babadook’s Samuel), the grieving (Amelia (Essie Davis), also of The Babadook), the lost (too many to mention), or even the temporarily distracted (so many having sex in so many slashers) easily make for dangerous situations and characters audiences can empathize with. It’s truly a match made in hell, at least for our endangered protagonists. There are few communities more vulnerable than the elderly, which James Ashcroft’s The Rule of Jenny Pen mines for a harrowing tale about a community plagued by a man with a dark side, and his creepy, creepy doll. It’s a fine film that utilizes this vulnerability to strong effect (backed by excellent performances from both Rush and Lithgow), but it’s somewhat undone by a set-up that doesn’t quite ring true.
What is ‘The Rule of Jenny Pen’ About?

After Judge Stefan Mortensen (Geoffrey Rush) has a stroke, he’s sent to a care facility full of other residents of his elder demographic. Most of the residents are peaceful, some are kind (despite his clear feeling of superiority), save for one: Dave Crealy (John Lithgow), a seemingly charming individual who carries a hollowed-out doll named Jenny Pen on his arm. By all appearances, it looks harmless, but what the facility staff don’t know is that Crealy has a dark side. As Crealy’s pranks escalate into torment for residents, it sets Mortensen on a collision course with an elderly tyrant in the name of finally overthrowing The Rule of Jenny Pen.
Strong Performances Well-Executed Terrors, But Disbelief Suspension Is Stretched Thin

Image via IFC Films

Geoffrey Rush gives an exceptional performance as the increasingly besieged but stubborn Mortensen. It’s an ever-shifting performance as the character’s medical condition evolves, creating a greater vulnerability over time, and Rush lands the role well in all its complexity. Lithgow is a genuine tyrant as the nefarious Crealy, with a dark sense of humor and growing malice when he senses either resistance or vulnerability. It’s no surprise to any Dexter fan that Lithgow can play a memorable villain, but he turns in a haunting, obsessive performance and manages to keep doll-involved terror effective.
The film keeps the doll’s effects and power somewhat vague–the care facility has a doll-based therapy program, and the film reads like the doll is a tool that Crealy uses to embody his malevolent impulses. Still, some of the film’s best moments position the doll in a larger, more domineering and surreal light. They’re well-structured and executed scenes that contribute to the feeling of claustrophobic threat permeating the facility. Additionally, Crealy’s escalations largely avoid repetition, creating a continuous menace that doesn’t wear out its welcome.

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The film’s biggest issue is that much of Crealy’s escalating terror relies on nonexistent security protocols and the facility’s staff being absent, unobservant, or apathetic. It’s common in films with bullying (most prominently in schools) to showcase unhelpful authorities, but that works a little better in a large school (teachers could always be elsewhere) than in a relatively contained elderly care home. Not merely absent, on a few occasions the authorities are nowhere during Crealy’s actions but show up in force after his actions beckon consequences… it’s an old bit in film history, but it doesn’t work here without narrative explanation as to why he gets apparent free rein. Crealy is revealed to have a long history at the facility, so they could utilize a variety of potential explanations: he owns the place, or there’s a cult, or Jenny Pen actually has supernatural effects, anything. The film doesn’t bother to explain the most incompetent absentee staff in cinematic care facility history, which makes it difficult to suspend belief in Crealy’s predation, well executed as it is.
A Promising Horror Outing Undone By Undercooked Plotting

Image via IFC Films

The Rule of Jenny Pen has a lot going for it. Lithgow and Rush pull off strong performances, the escalation of tension is well-developed regarding the scenes taken as a whole, and the central conceit of the doll is used to strong effect. Its biggest issue, however, is that much of Crealy’s growing malevolence requires the staff of a tight care facility to be entirely absent, or even in his corner, and there’s no real reason given for his implausibly uninhibited rule. It muddles the effect of the tension because, at points, it’s wildly implausible, and the film doesn’t exhibit an effort to explain this situation. What’s left is a horror film that’s good, but which stops short of being great.
The Rule of Jenny Pen comes to theaters on March 7.

The Rule of Jenny Pen

‘The Rule of Jenny Pen’ boasts exceptional performances from John Lithgow and Geoffrey Rush, but the campaign of terror stretches credulity even if it’s well executed.

Release Date

September 19, 2024

Runtime

103 minutes

Writers

James Ashcroft, Eli Kent

Pros & Cons

John Lithgow is terrifying as antagonist Dave Crealy, and Geoffrey Rush is complex as the besieged and belligerent Judge.
The scares and tension are well designed and executed, and the doll is utilized to strong effect.
There are a few surreal interludes that work well to build a tense atmosphere and elevate the film.

Most of the tension relies on an entirely absentee care facility staff that’s never really explained and considerably unrealistic, thus diminishing the believability of the film.