‘The Last House’ Netflix Review: A Sealed House, A World Gone Wrong

One of two apocalyptic, fantasy-tinged thrillers about a family facing dangerous creatures to open within weeks of each other (the other is The End of Oak Street, due in theaters August 13), The Last House offers a streaming-friendly spin on the kind of films M. Night Shyamalan used to make: tightly wound, claustrophobic thrillers in which, whatever may be happening across the wider world, we experience a catastrophe through the eyes of a very small group. Directed by French filmmaker Louis Leterrier—better known for large-scale, action-driven fare—the film inevitably invites comparison to the recent (and already half-suppressed) memory of the COVID pandemic, as it follows a family struggling to survive an enigmatic external threat that traps them inside their home.

The protagonists are the four members of the Delgado family, based in Seattle. The father, Jason (Wagner Moura, returning to Hollywood after the success of The Secret Agent), is an engineer with a passion for fishing. His wife Ann (Greta Lee, of Past Lives) has a knack for horticulture. Their children, Graham (Noah Alexander Sosnowski) and Ruth (Riley Chung), are kind, good-natured kids who don’t seem likely to cause trouble. All of this will prove useful when, one day, in the middle of a torrential storm, they find themselves inexplicably sealed inside their spacious, comfortable—if somewhat old-fashioned—house. For reasons that remain stubbornly opaque, they cannot open doors or windows, nor can they break through walls. Nothing yields, no matter how much force they apply.

What exactly is happening is impossible to determine. There’s no internet or phone service, and soon more immediate concerns arise as food and water begin to run low. They’re not alone: neighbors in nearby houses are in the same situation, communicating through handwritten signs held up to windows, and all signs suggest the phenomenon is widespread. As anyone who has endured lockdown will recognize, the Delgados must improvise—only here it’s even more extreme, since there’s no digital escape, no streaming platforms, no distractions beyond what’s physically in the house: a couple of DVDs (Annie and Air Force One), a handful of books, and not much else. In its own way, the film doubles as a reminder to keep tangible forms of entertainment around for when Spotify and Netflix vanish in the wake of a collapse.

For a good stretch, the film avoids addressing what might be happening outside. The family assumes the situation will last a few days, but it drags on and on. From that point, their focus shifts toward survival—water, food, and the strain of close quarters—rather than deciphering the mystery beyond their walls, where there appear to be little more than violent storms and a strangely “expressive” form of water. The Last House is at its best in charting the rhythms of this extreme domestic confinement, capturing both the comforts and the frictions of forced intimacy as they ebb and flow over time.

Clearly, Leterrier (Now You See Me) doesn’t consider that enough to sustain a mainstream audience, and eventually the film pivots toward something more conventional, physical, and violent. It’s best not to spoil too much of what screenwriter Matthew Robinson (Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die) has devised, but once certain narrative pieces begin to fall into place—though the mythology remains somewhat muddled—the film settles into a more traditional thriller mode, driven by endurance, courage, ingenuity, and a great deal of luck (or, failing that, an inventive engineer father whose emotional stability is occasionally in question) as the family tries to escape their predicament.

For all the strain in its premise, The Last House boasts an engaging first hour, helped in no small part by Moura, Lee, and the two young actors, who lend credibility to this initially functional family of unlikely survivors. Tensions inevitably surface, but beyond the predictable pressures of prolonged confinement, they remain sympathetic, and their responses to mounting challenges are easy to invest in. When the film suddenly shifts gears—perhaps a bit too abruptly—it becomes more conventional, even a little makeshift, as it threads its way through the physical spaces of the house and its surroundings. Still, despite conjuring uneasy memories of the darkest days of the pandemic, The Last House delivers enough to fill a weekend streaming slot. No more, and no less.