When I first saw the trailer for The Last House—the new Netflix original movie that began streaming on Friday—I was intrigued. A movie where a family is trapped inside their home? Where they are bored in the house, and in the house bored, for months, or even years? That’s a predicament that I—and everyone else who lived through the quarantine months of 2020—can relate to.

It didn’t hurt that Netflix was pairing this real-world metaphor with two very talented lead actors, Wagner Moura (recently nominated for an Oscar for his performance in the Brazilian political thriller, The Secret Agent) and Greta Lee (who earned a Golden Globe nomination and critical acclaim for her lead performance in Past Lives).

While I didn’t think this movie would be life-changing—it’s still a Netflix original—I did, at least, expect an interesting, entertaining analogy on the COVID-19 lockdown. And for a brief moment, The Last House did deliver on that front. But the small amount the movie did have to say about lockdown was quickly overshadowed by the film’s incomprehensible plot.

Directed by French filmmaker Louis Leterrier, with a screenplay written by Matthew Robinson, The Last House stars Moura as Jason, an unemployed engineer who cuts his early-morning fishing excursion short, because a storm is rolling in. Just as the rain starts to pour down, Jason makes it inside his house. He greets his family: his wife, Ann (Greta Lee), his oldest son Graham (Noah Alexander Sosnowski), and his youngest daughter Ruth (Riley Chung).

The kids want to go Christmas tree shopping, but but when the family tries to leave the house, they find themselves unable to open any door or window. Even attempting to break the windows doesn’t work. The glass cracks, but then magically sews itself back together. With the WiFi and phone signals down, they can’t contact anyone. (At least we still had Netflix and Zoom calls during our lockdown!) The family spends the next few months (and eventually years) trapped inside, with nothing but a crate full of records and two DVDs (Annie and Air Force One) to entertain them.

Moura and Lee introduce their kids to their favorite music. They teach them practical skills, like how to gut a fish. They watch Annie, over and over, together, as a family. They are forced to slow down and spend time with one and other. As Lee tells her on-screen husband after a fun date together: “You like this. It’s like, in a weird way, you’re happier in here than us.”

For about 10 minutes, the movie spoke that push-pull many of us felt during the lockdown. Yes, we felt trapped, bored, and helpless. But we also finally had time to slow down, consume art, learn new skills, and connect with our loved ones in a way we’d never had time to do before.

But then comes the plot about the deep sea creatures, who make it rain salt water and, apparently, trapped all of humanity inside their homes for no discernible reason. Any thought of meaningful COVID commentary is out the magically-sealed-shut window. The Last House never returns to exploring those lockdown-related themes. Instead, the film shoehorns in a half-baked lesson about non-violence in final scene.

Obvious plot holes—like a hand-held crank radio that somehow transmits video without WiFi, signal, or power; or a fire that is lit while submerged in water—distract the viewer from hearing anything larger that the film has to say. Situations escalate for no good reason beyond the sake of escalation, like when the house suddenly floods during the big monster battle (only to suddenly drain out, when it’s no longer convenient for the scene).

Worst of all, The Last House is simply not entertaining. It looks bad. It doesn’t make sense. Even Moura and Lee can’t rescue the cliché and expository lines of dialogue, nor can they do anything about the ultimately nonsensical plot. If you were looking for a fun, rather than meaningful, movie that speaks to your 2020 trauma, The Last House ain’t it. For that, try the 2024 comedy Stress Positions instead.