My quick rating – 6.1/10. This flick is a darkly atmospheric psychological thriller cloaked in the unlikeliest of places: a serene, slow-paced elder care facility. Here, aging bodies house Here, aging bodies house some sharp and some failing minds, and secrets crackle just beneath the surface. The setting is almost deceptively calm until John Lithgow’s performance shatters any illusion of peace.
Geoffrey Rush plays a former judge now imprisoned within his own unresponsive body after a stroke. Confined to a wheelchair and unable to communicate without a condescending tone, Rush brings a haunting presence with just his eyes and subtle expressions, something few actors could pull off. His character’s frustration and helplessness radiate in the staff’s dismissal of his claims, making him both a tragic figure and a desperate, silent observer to the increasingly sinister events unfolding around him.
Lithgow, always a master of complex roles, is perfectly cast as the home’s resident bully—an elderly psychopath who hides behind charm and a child’s puppet named Jenny Pen to psychologically terrorize fellow patients. It’s not just the horror of what he does that disturbs me but how he does it: manipulation, mental cruelty, and slow, calculated torment. Watching Lithgow toy with his victims, sometimes mid-conversation while casually wielding the puppet, is unsettling in the best way.
George Henare rounds out the central trio as Tony, another resident whose interactions bring moments of poignancy and depth to the otherwise bleak tone. The Rule of Jenny Pen is largely a three-person stage play, and without these powerhouse performances, it might’ve collapsed under the weight of its confined setting and minimalist plot.
Director James Ashcroft (working from a short story, which is referenced in the credits) leans into the claustrophobia and psychological tension. There’s a subplot hinted at, one that could have broadened the narrative or provided deeper insight, but it remains underdeveloped. Perhaps intentionally so, to preserve the tight, almost novella-like feel of the film, but it leaves a trace of dissatisfaction for anyone hoping for a more expansive payoff.
What the film lacks in scope, it makes up for in emotional unease. It’s a slow burn built not on what’s seen, but what’s felt. No gore, no physical violence or jump scares in the traditional horror sense, just aging minds under siege, a puppet with an unnerving smile, and a quiet war for sanity in a place meant for peace.
The Rule of Jenny Pen won’t be for everyone. It’s more unsettling than scary, more psychological than thrilling. But with its strong performances, especially from Lithgow, who turns puppet-play into something truly nightmarish, leaves a lingering chill. Just don’t expect answers or a world beyond the narrow hallways of this unsettling rest home.
This Shudder original can be found on Amazon along with a slew of other streamers.