“The Rule of Jenny Pen” (now streaming on Shudder) delivers an unexpected heavyweight showdown: Geoffrey Rush versus John Lithgow. These seasoned actors portray residents in a retirement home who become intense adversaries, with one seemingly under the influence of a sinister puppet named Jenny Pen. Directed by James Ashcroft and based on a short story by New Zealand author Owen Marshall, the film emerges as a dark comedy, entertaining yet leaving some potential untapped. It’s an entertaining flick that could have been exceptional with a few more elements.

The Gist: Stefan (Rush) is adamant he’s leaving soon. Departing. Leaving the facility behind. That is, once his right side obeys his brain’s commands again. Previously a magistrate, he suffered a stroke mid-lecture from the bench and now navigates life in a wheelchair, sharing meals with individuals he deems lesser because they don’t recite Hemingway from memory as he does. However, his arrogance is curtailed by his condition – he struggles to grasp objects with his right hand and needs assistance with bathing. Once, while his nurse briefly steps away, he slips under the water, nearly drowning. Will Stefan recover? We have our doubts; it seems this journey will teach him more about his new reality.

As a protagonist, Stefan is almost likable – roughly a 51/49 split if you quantify it – though his potential is limited, akin to a drop ceiling that can be removed for more space if effort is exerted. He harbors justified disdain for the facility’s staff due to their shocking incompetence. While not malevolent like a Nurse Ratched, their neglectful behavior makes them seem like pawns of the plot. Their absence during crucial moments allows the facility’s evil elements ample freedom, specifically Dave Crealy (Lithgow). This wild-eyed character, with his eerie babydoll hand puppet Jenny Pen, who has no eyes and appears unsettling, especially when backlit, seems to dominate, though whether it’s Dave or Jenny in control remains uncertain as they torment the residents day and night.

The only time we see one of the carers correct Dave is when he tries to steal an old lady’s bowl of slop food. Otherwise, he moves about with impunity, prancing around during dance time, elbowing folks and stepping on feet with cruel purpose. He’s more mobile than most folk in the place, although he gets winded and has to hit his inhaler on occasion, a plot revelation you might want to pocket for later. And Dave targets the snooty prick around here, that is, Stefan. One night Dave steals into the room Stefan shares with Tony (George Henare). Dave makes Tony lick Jenny Pen’s makeshift anus (it’s just Dave’s wrist, but it’s still rather degrading) and then empties the contents of Stefan’s portable plastic urinal in Stefan’s lap as he lies helpless in bed. Of course, nobody wants to believe Stefan’s pleas that he was harassed – the guy already used his piss-poor demeanor to lay the groundwork for poor relations with the staff, so why would they sympathize with him? It’s obvious Stefan just wet himself. This is just the beginning, of course. There will be other instances in which Stefan is victimized but is essentially gaslit by nurses and orderlies. But what can a guy who’s half-paralyzed do in this situation? NO SPOILERS, mack.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Jenny Pen takes an inspired pairing of beloved stars like Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman in The Bucket List, and drops them into a situation derived from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. And it’s also easily the weirdest movie set in an elderly care home since Bubba Ho-tep. 

Performance Worth Watching: Evil Lithgow is one of life’s most underrated joys. Of course there’s Raising Cain before this, and he’s devious as heck as a cardinal scheming to be Pope in Conclave. Here, he’s funny and terrifying at the same time, a tightrope walk that most people can’t execute as effectively. 

Memorable Dialogue: There’s something immensely, weirdly satisfying about hearing Geoffrey Rush spitting to a nurse, “I’m sitting in my own emissions here, woman.”

Sex and Skin: None.

Our Take: Nutty as The Rule of Jenny Pen can be, I assert that it’s not quite nutty enough. Maybe going full gonzo-horror wouldn’t draw guys like Rush and Lithgow to the roles – their work here is vulnerable enough in their portrayal of aging, increasingly feeble men (and frankly, cringing through Brian Cox’s projectile vomiting in The Parenting was far from pleasant, although that movie was far less thematically ambitious than this one). But if Ashcroft pumped up the nasty intensity a notch – think The Substance, although maybe a little less nasty would be acceptable – and leaned into its absurdities, you get the feeling that Jenny Pen would become more rudely satirical and truly come alive, instead of being the modest, amusing entertainment that it is.

Some might not interpret Jenny Pen as satire, though; some may see it as a grossly exploitationist portrayal of elderly disabled people. But it’s ultimately too silly to take seriously as Lithgow sneers and gnashes his teeth and talks to his “therapy” puppet, although such things do exist, and I scare-quote the word because Something Else Is Going On Here. Is Jenny Pen a supernatural force or just the manifestation of Dave’s mental illness? Hard to be sure, and the movie ain’t telling. But it is amusing to see Stefan, a man who views fairness and justice via testimonies, evidence and other courtroom procedures, try to apply logic to a situation where it finds little purchase.

We may not get satisfactory answers as to what that Something Else is, but it at least functions as a prop that allows Dave a long, long leash for his behavior, you know, don’t be hard on the guy because he’s not all there. It’s also a sloppy, but still relatively poignant metaphor for the struggles that aging people endure when they begin to realize their independence is slipping away as their bodies begin to fail. That’s a troubling reality for some people, and the good thing about Jenny Pen is, no matter how goofy or grimly comic it gets, nobody is going down without a fight.

Our Call: The first Rule of Jenny Pen is: STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.