The premise of “The Last House,” the new sci-fi thriller from Netflix, is promising: A family, helmed by the always watchable Greta Lee and Wagner Moura, is trapped in a house by forces beyond their understanding. Days turn into weeks, and then months; a full fridge slowly empties out; hopes of rescue dim into a near-palpable despair. But for as often as that premise keeps you interested in what happens next — what’s lurking outside the unopenable windows and doors? Why won’t it stop raining? Will they survive? — “The Last House” just as often leaves you feeling confused.

Directed by Louis Leterrier from a script by Matthew Robinson, the Seattle-set film (highlighted by establishing shots of the Space Needle, apparently our only recognizable feature) lacks any real focus. It bounces between themes but never allows the individual elements to coalesce into anything resembling a through line.

Once they’re trapped in their home and it begins raining incessantly (there’s a joke about Seattle weather to be made here), dad Jason and mom Ann (Moura and Lee, respectively, and the best part of “The Last House”) emphasize the importance of family and resilience to their children. But that message gets muddled by clumsy execution; it’s hard to identify with a family that’s so incredibly calm, collected and capable that it takes them weeks to freak out about not being able to go outside.

There are messages of community and how we treat the creatures we share this planet with, but they, too, are incoherent, falling by the wayside as the threats of running out of food and whatever’s keeping them trapped become ever more present. Even the latter issue, which is affecting more than just this family and this house, feels jumbled, taut and thrilling one minute and utterly confusing the next.

The visual work throughout does help mitigate some of the staccato narrative, though. The cinematography is generally on point, especially with how it plays with water and sunlight. (There are moments when the film seems to want to blind you with retina-burning brightness, though I applaud the film bucking the recent trend of making everything so dark you can’t tell what’s happening onscreen.) A hand-drawn calendar marking the passage of time is a breathtaking wonder, full of gorgeous, childlike whimsy. And the house itself feels like its own character, part of the family as it goes through this hell. (A piece of advice: Make sure you own more DVDs than just “Air Force One” and “Annie.”)

Still, “The Last House” just doesn’t seem to know what it wants to be. Aside from some worthwhile performances from Moura and Lee as parents willing to do anything to save their children, there’s nothing to tether yourself to, no real narrative anchor point that’s anything more than a discombobulated message of the power of family. It’s an important message, but in “The Last House,” it just sinks under the waterlogged weight of everything else.

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'THE LAST HOUSE'

2 stars (out of 4)

MPA rating: PG-13 (for some violent content/terror, drug use, sexual references and brief language)

Running time: 1:50

How to watch: Netflix

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