#NewsBytesRecommends: 'The House' on Netflix—striking animation about pervasive human issues

Netflix's fast-paced anthology film The House is a collection of three stories. They aren't related to one other chronologically but look up to each other thematically, and the eponymous house—where the characters stay (or are trapped)—becomes their eventual undoing. These stories are distinguished by time shifts, but all tales drive the same point home—a cage, even with golden bars, forever remains a cage.

Enda Walsh is credited with writing The House. The first story is about a working-class family that makes a Faustian deal with a mysterious man who sells them an eerie house, while the second one traces the journey of anthropomorphic characters who co-exist with humans. The third is set in the post-apocalyptic world—the world drowns, but the house's owner relentlessly holds on to it.

There is so much at play here—especially with the overbearing sense of doom that you can feel in every frame and the soundtrack that catalyzes it—that you have to see it to feel it. Dim lighting, suspicious characters, sunken eyes, and minimal dialogues lend the enigmatic, somber short a horror-film-like feel, as the house almost turns into a predator to swallow its new owners.

The second story is not as intense as the first one, as we see an anthropomorphic rat trying to pay off his debt by selling off his house. The problem? Hundreds of disgusting pests and insects live in the house, and hence, it remains unsold despite repeated attempts. The message is clear: he may want to escape, but "the House" will hold onto him.

The last chapter is about Rosa, a cat, who unsuccessfully trudges on to exact rent from her two tenants. A massive flood has wiped everything out, and only the house seems to remain. It keeps her safe, warm, and secure, and unlike the last two stories, here, it also assures her of a sense of belonging. It almost becomes the family she never had.

The House makes stunning use of stop-motion animation to bring to life some alternate, fascinating realities, but what remains the common denominator across these stories is that the core issues remain humane—easily identifiable and eerily relatable. Eventually, despite the ominous sense of foreboding that permeates through it, The House successfully whips up emotions of fear, joy, and suspense, ultimately making it an enrapturing watch.