Reviews: The Rule of Jenny Pen

The Rule of Jenny Pen,
Directed by James Ashcroft,
Starring Geoffrey Rush, John Lithgow, George Henare

THE RULE OF JENNY PEN – Official Poster

Stefan Mortensen (Geoffrey Rush) is a judge, presiding over his court with a cold, superior air over all who come before him, both the criminals and even the families of the victims. In an opening sequence we see him not only tearing into a criminal in the dock before him, he then berates the mother of the victim (after she quietly repeats “thank you, thank you” after the guilty verdict), accusing her of failing in her duty to protect her child. As introductions go, it doesn’t exactly set us up to have much sympathy with Stefan, and yet it is this man we will largely follow throughout the film.

During his sentencing tirade, Stefan starts to struggle with his words, losing his thread, before collapsing. He has, in fact, suffered a stroke, right there in the courtroom, and the next we see of him, he is being moved into a care home for the elderly. He has gone from the feared and respected judge to a sad figure, now mentally and physically impaired, and alone (he appears to have no close family) in among the strangers of the elderly care home. That would be upsetting for any of us – the sudden loss of independence and dignity (no longer to even still take a bath alone, requiring help for even that task now) – but for an arrogant man like Stefan it feels even worse, leading him to rebuff any friendly overtures from other residents (such as his room-mate, Tony (George Henare), or the activities designed to keep the residents entertained and diverted.

But there is much worse to come, in the shape of Dave Creary (John Lithgow). Glimpsed at first in the background, a bedraggled looking, older man, who wears a child’s plastic dolly on one hand, like a glove puppet, and speaking through it (he refers to it as “Jenny Pen”), he gives every appearance of being a man lost in some form of dementia, eccentric but harmless. But he is anything but, and that dolly becomes an incredibly creepy totem.

Dave, it turns out, is not lost in mental illness, he is perfectly aware of his surroundings, and of his own desires and actions, and how exactly to move around his environment, which buttons to press, what he can get away with, how to stage things so that in the unlikely event anyone stands up and tries to tell the staff about his actions, he can make it look like they are the guilty party, shamelessly attacking a poor, demented, bewildered old man.

By night Dave creeps around the facility, terrifying the residents, without the staff ever catching on. The others are so cowed by him they no longer put up any fight, even Stefan’s room-mate Tony, a tough, former sporting star, is now too scared of this bully. Stefan, of course, will have none of it, but finds when he tries to get others to listen to his explanations of what is going on, nobody will listen to him. Added to this, his initial hope that he would only be here until he was rehabilitated is soon dashed as he learns his condition is actually likely to deteriorate further, and Dave knows this, gleefully explaining to him how he has watched others before him go this way, and just how much he will enjoy it.

This is simply a superb slice of compelling storytelling, drawing on elements of the horror and the thriller, and powered by having to absolutely powerhouse actors who are clearly relishing their roles and playing off one another. Frankly it’s worth the ticket just for watching Rush and Lithgow here, but director Ashcroft not only encourages such great performances from his stars, he crafts an increasingly uneasy, disturbing atmosphere, both the home itself (taking something so ordinary, mundane, almost dull, and making it into a disturbingly creepy place), and a personal sense of impending unease (Stefan’s increasingly failing faculties are depicted with some clever camera work and editing, in addition to Rush’s acting, that gives us a terrifying taste of what it is like for him as he realises he can no longer rely on his own mental acuity, Lithgow’s depiction of Dave’s sheer cruelty is terrfying).

Quite simply a superbly told tale, with two magnificent actors given roles they can really sink their teeth into.

The Rule of Jenny Pen will be released in cinemas from March 7th

This review was originally penned for Live For Films

Reviews: Brooding, disturing Gothic horror in Reunion

Reunion,
Directed by Jake Mahaffy,
Starring Julia Ormond, Emma Draper, John Bach, Cohen Holloway and Nancy Brunning

I went into this Kiwi film knowing very little about it, other than it had attracted some good word of mouth via the film festival circuit (which is usually a good sign), and that its small cast included Julia Ormond. Sometimes you just get a vibe about a film and know you have to have a look at it, and I had that feeling with Reunion. I’m glad I listened to that instinct, as Jake Mahaffy (he both wrote and directed) has created a superb film which takes in elements of the dysfunctional inter-generational family drama, the horror genre and includes some well-crafted disturbing scenes and imagery that will get under your skin.

Heavily pregnant, Ellie (Emma Draper), reluctantly returns home to the large, brooding, family home and her mother Ivy (Julia Ormond). It’s clear right away that Ellie really doesn’t want to be here, and that she and her mother don’t get along, but we get the impression she’s had little choice in where to go, having broken up with her partner and father of the child she is carrying. The large, old house still also includes her father Jack (John Bach), once an eminent doctor, now confined mostly to his bed or wheelchair and unable to communicate very much, a shadow of the dominant man we see in later flashbacks to Ellie’s childhood, or in the old VHS tapes of family life her mother still has.

Reunion plays with the viewer, only giving us limited information – we have to try to discern what is going on and what the family dynamics are by the impressions we are given, then some flashbacks and old family videos, while later Ellie experiences dreams or visions of moments from her childhood, including a horribly traumatic moment over her deceased half-sister Cara. However, sometimes these visions and flashbacks are distorted, sometimes they play out differently; likewise when she argues with her mother the viewer gets the impression that Ellie is not really a reliable narrator.

We learn she has long-running mental health issues and has been on medication, and we don’t know if we can trust her version of events or if it is all the product of a very troubled mind, and Draper does a remarkable job in conveying a woman in turmoil, worried about impending motherhood, haunted by her past (which may or may not be as she recalls it) and constantly arguing with her mother; it is hard to know if you want to root for Ellie or to dislike her, and I think that’s a deliberate ploy on behalf of both Mahaffy and Draper; it makes the drama and the mystery far more intriguing and draws the viewer in further, I think.

Her mother seems at first to be the practical, put-upon mother who, with a sigh, just gets on with things in that way that mums often do: invalid husband, she looks after him and takes care of what needs done around the family house (it is filled with boxes as Ellie arrives, preparing to clear it out and sell if off, their shared history concealed inside boxes, a metaphor for their actual lives). Her troubled daughter who tried to make a go of it away from the family nest forced to return, yes, mum will sigh and then get on with trying to take her in hand too.

Except as the film progresses we start to question Ivy: is she really the selfless mother taking on care for an invalided husband and an adult daughter who can’t cope on her own? Or does she have other, hidden agendas? As she and Ellie argue we slowly start to move from thinking Ellie’s memories are distorted by her mental illness and trauma to wondering if perhaps she is right, or at least partly right, and perhaps Ivy’s matriarchal stance conceals some dark secrets, that perhaps it isn’t all in Ellie’s head and that Ivy is lying to her, even gaslighting her into believing something that isn’t true. It’s hard to know who to trust, who has the correct version, and perhaps neither of them truly do, and it makes the mystery all the darker and more intriguing.

Mixed through this Mahaffy makes great use of the large, old country house, a place which would have once been impressive, bustling and now houses only three broken souls, personal items boxed up to go, many doors locked (Ivy carries a bunch of keys with her everywhere she goes, a symbol of her attempt to control the narrative of their history as much as it is to control the house). Glimpses of things out of the corner of the eye, doors that move by themselves, glimpses of the ghost of Cara, still the child she was when she died (or is this vision also in Ellie’s troubled head?), it all induces a claustrophobic sense of unease, of something trying to pretend to be a normal family home but not really managing. Woven into this are some superbly disturbing moments, which I am not going to ruin here with spoilers, but suffice to say they added greatly to the brooding, disturbing atmosphere which lies over Reunion.

This is a highly effective, slow-burning, atmosphere-building horror-drama, rewarding the viewer with some deliciously disturbing elements that will remain in your mind’s eye; part family drama, part Gothic horror, part ghost story, part mental health tale, it takes all of these and creates an absorbing narrative, beautifully shot, with Ormond and Draper carrying the film. Highly recommended.

Reunion will be released by 101 Films on digital from March 22nd

This review was originally penned for Live For Films