Ominous. Haunting. Joyous. Disgusting. A house sits alone on a hill, crammed into a city and afloat above flooding caused by ever-present rains. Netflix’s new stop-motion film covers the experiences of three generations of people all living in the same house through three different stories. Although all of the stories have vastly different plots, they all end the same way: The occupants are simply unable to leave the house.
Animation-wise, “The House” is a triumph. Each short film is done by a different set of directors, and although all three stories mesh together into a complex and haunting tale, all three 30 minute segments are rich enough to stand well on their own. Different art and animation styles are what took this film to the next level. It’s obvious how much thought and care went into the stop-motion figures, and in a world saturated with gaudy green screens and showy special effects, the finely felted figures of “The House” are a true show of craftsmanship.
Emma de Swaef and Marc James Roels, a Belgium-based duo, crafted the first film of the series titled “Chapter One.” The plot follows a father humiliated by his lower-class life that decides to make a deal with a shady architect. What starts out as a dream — a huge new home free of charge — quickly turns into a nightmare. The architect is erratic, changing the home at night into a maze of horrors, missing staircases and zombie-like construction workers fill the home, giving the film an eerie starting point.
The first film serves as an origin story of sorts. The viewer could assume the root of all of the evil and mishappenings in the house stems from the unorthodox way in which it was built and bought. The felted human protagonists of “Chapter One” are fuzzy and fleshy, with tight features bunched in the middle of their faces. Their uncanny appearances add to the freakiness of the first story.
The 30 minute time constraint felt tight around “Chapter One” and left the viewer wanting more. I hoped for a sort of resolution at the end of the film, like a grand reveal of the architect’s intentions or a follow-up with the family, but was ultimately disappointed. Although it was firm and direct in its shortness, I wish “The House” left more to the imagination.
Chapters two and three take the house into future generations. “Chapter Two” follows a desperate mouse in what seems like the present day. He attempts to sell the house to a new buyer but encounters multiple problems during the process, which takes a massive toll on his sanity. This segment, directed by Niki Lindroth von Bahr, takes a truly absurd turn when we learn the truth about the only buyers who are interested in the house.
“Chapter Three” floats into a dystopian future with flooded cities inhabited by felines. Paloma Baeza tells the story of a young landlord trying to upkeep her building in the midst of an unprecedented weather crisis. The story hits alarmingly close to home, and watching the protagonist cling to the remnants of her reality while her world literally sinks around her is sure to draw some tears.
The last segment of the anthology leaves the story on a sweet and uncertain note. I was glad “The House” didn’t heave itself over the two hour mark like most movies feel the need to nowadays, but I had a lot of questions that weren’t answered. The supernatural aspect of “The House” is left ambiguous, and most of the loose ends stem from a lack of context in the first story. Compared to “Chapter Two,” which ended with a gruesome but well-planned twist, and “Chapter Three,” which left viewers with a sense of wistfulness, “Chapter One’s” ending was rather inconclusive. With more context in the beginning, “The House” could have been the perfect combination of short films.
“The House” is a win for stop-motion lovers everywhere, and with its ironic and dark humor, it’s a must-watch for Tim Burton and Wes Anderson fans alike. Hopefully Netflix will continue to support small creators like this in the future, and continue to turn out whimsical and detailed stories like this one.
