THE STORY – A family suddenly sealed inside their home must work together to survive against dwindling resources and the ominous threat keeping them trapped.
THE CAST – Greta Lee, Wagner Moura, Riley Chung, Emma Ho, & Noah Alexander Sosnowski
THE TEAM – Louis Lettierer (Director) & Matthew Robinson (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 110 Minutes
It would only make sense that a streamer like Netflix would enlist an everyman filmmaker such as Louis Leterrier to direct “The Last House,” their delayed replication of an “A Quiet Place”-esque apocalyptic thriller. Sure, they tried to cash in on the sense-deprived horror with 2023’s “Bird Box,” which is why this film feels more like an underachieving adaptation of Stephen King’s “The Mist” in almost every aspect. At least with Leterrier, the hope was that his track record behind big-budget productions like “Fast X” and “Now You See Me” would generate some attention for a film meant to be a thrilling watch on a rainy night at home. Instead, “The Last House” is a tiresome attempt to generate thrills that even has Wagner Moura and Greta Lee looking as frustrated on screen as those watching from their couches.
After beginning with a quote from famed author Arthur C. Clarke, the opening of “The Last House” speeds along, as Leterrier finds little in Matthew Robinson’s screenplay worthwhile aside from the genre-heavy premise. Moura’s Jason, an unemployed engineer with an affinity for fishing, is awkwardly introduced while a storm in the Seattle area progressively worsens throughout the day. His loving wife Ann (Lee) and their two children, Ruth and Graham, enjoy their quiet life together in their house filled with issues, mainly a cracked chimney that could worsen the foundation of what will be this sanctuary from the end of the world. Moura’s active displeasure with his financial struggles is alluded to perfunctorily, along with this family’s bond with one another. We’re meant to have a stake in this familial unit, but when time isn’t taken to deepen their dynamic beyond the traditional roles each member of a family assumes in society, it only makes the inevitable revelation that they are trapped in their home by this mysterious rain less of a harrowing scenario.
Audiences see that the doors of the titular last house are unpryable and that attempts to break the windows are futile, while a sentient water-based sealant blocks any space that could serve as an exit. Robinson and Leterrier relish less the existential horrors caused by these unknown phenomena, at least for most of the film, and more the way the erosion of society takes a toll on this family’s indefinite imprisonment. “The Last House” rarely goes beyond the few yards outside their property, as we see early on moments when Jason communicates with his neighbors via a chalkboard. It’s fleeting, since Jason and his family are portrayed as the most resilient family in this neighborhood, as people trapped in their homes are left to their own devices. The real tension of “The Last House” comes from the way this prolonged isolation molds the family into something they never expected for themselves. How long can their shared love for one another spare them from bouts of starvation, insanity, and a desire to step out beyond into a world they once knew?
Somewhat watchable sequences of the family adapting to these dire conditions, like Jason using his engineering background to develop new ways to find food, are all but negated by awkwardly captured moments of “family time.” The Delgado family has impromptu dance parties and sing-alongs to “Annie” (one of only two films on physical media this family owns). Leterrier subtracts any humanity these characters have relatively early in the film to morph them into a survivalist family that would seem as if they have been preparing for this moment their whole lives. Moura, fresh off his Academy Award-nominated turn in “The Secret Agent,” is doing the best he can, yet more often than not, his character is relegated to being a stagnant patriarch, obligated to keep his family alive no matter what. Jason’s militant approach to survival runs counter to his children’s desire to do more in this changed life of theirs than just survive. Lee doesn’t fare any better, often needing to utter some of the worst dialogue in Robinson’s screenplay. It’s incredibly trite that Lee’s character is just a nurturer to the family, mainly tending to the floor-board garden that sustains them for most of the film. She has one daring moment in the back half of the film, but it’s short-lived; Leterrier’s direction doesn’t aid these two brilliant performers in any way.
The children, Ruth and Graham, are played by multiple actors, with Riley Chung and Noah Alexander Sosnowski as the younger versions, who are mainly there to deliver comic relief. The older versions, played by Emma Ho and Gabriel Barbosa, attempt to instill a sense of youthfulness stripped from this new reality they live in. Ho and Barbosa get some of the more emotionally charged moments of the film, but they don’t land because Leterrier and Robinson’s visions of what “The Last House” should be conflict with one another. The few set pieces in “The Last House” aren’t riveting either, despite Leterrier’s efforts to implement the creative production design to successfully show how the home has evolved over the years alongside the characters. If audiences can muster their way through the film’s second half, where it begins to probe what’s in the mysterious rain that has trapped the Delgado family, they will still be underwhelmed by the answers they receive. It’s hard to say if “The Last House” is anything but a streaming thriller that won’t stand the test of time because it reminds me most of M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Happening.” At least with Shyamalan’s misfire, there’s an amusing aspect of the film’s legacy that will randomly pop into people’s memory all these years later. The same won’t be said for “The Last House.”
