Geoffrey Rush returns to film in a role unlike anything else he’s done
THE RULE OF JENNY PEN
MA, 115 minutes
In cinemas March 20
Reviewed by SANDRA HALL
★★★
Geoffrey Rush returns to the screen this week in a macabre psychological thriller set in a New Zealand nursing home.
It’s six years since his screen career was interrupted by the defamation case that awarded him $2.9 million in damages over a Daily Telegraph article dealing with allegations of sexual harassment and this, his comeback appearance, makes a change from anything he’s done before.
The villain, Dave Crealey, is played by a sadistic John Lithgow, equipped with a snaggle-toothed grin and a sinister doll called Jenny Pen, which he uses as a glove puppet. By night, he prowls the home, bursting into the rooms of his fellow residents and frightening them almost to death. Why doesn’t somebody stop him? Good question. We’re told care homes can be woefully understaffed but this one has done away with the night shift altogether.
Geoffrey Rush in The Rule of Jenny Pen.
Despite this credibility gap, it’s enthralling to watch these two talents duelling with one another. Rush’s Stefan Mortensen is a supercilious judge who lands in the care home after he suffers a stroke in his courtroom. He envisages a short stay and isn’t planning to make any friends but he’s forced to share a room with Tony Garfield (George Henare), an affable character who has become Crealey’s prime target because of his status as once famous football player.
Bullies fascinate whether they’re operating in the White House or the school playground. Their conduct inspires a strong urge to see them brought down and if this happens at the hands of an heroic underdog, all the better. Mortensen, however, doesn’t fit that description.
We’ve seen him at work in court and he’s as remorseless as Crealey himself. When he tries to tell the home’s staff what’s happening, he goes about it in such a high-handed way they think he’s the bully. It’s only when he unbends enough to form an uneasy alliance with the embattled Tony that things start to change.
This is the second film director James Ashcroft has made from the work of New Zealand writer, Owen Wilson, and the script doesn’t waste words. We learn little about Crealey’s past, apart from his chronic jealousy of anyone who’s led a bigger life than he has. But that’s enough.
Lithgow invests him with such a gleeful enthusiasm for causing pain that no motive is necessary. He’s finally found his metier – a house full of helpless people where he’s free to do as he likes.
