In “Trespass,” Nicole Kidman stars as Sarah Miller, an architect whose home is invaded by a band of thieves.

Nicolas Cage has yet again managed to hammer another nail into the coffin of his terminally ill movie career, one that has been in freefall since its last success in 2004’s “National Treasure.” Cage’s new film, “Trespass,” is as dull and confusing as his previous hit was exciting and straightforward. The same can sadly be said for his co-star, Nicole Kidman, whose hysterical role is a far cry from her Academy Award–winning appearance in “The Hours.”

Directed by Joel Schumacher, “Trespass” tells the tale of Sarah (Kidman) and Kyle Miller (Cage), an unhappily married, wealthy couple who are held hostage by a group of criminals looking for some money. While the premise is not original, one might hope for a spark of novelty in the way the crisis affects the protagonists’ fragile marriage, perhaps by bringing the formally estranged spouses back together and allowing them to address their issues. But the entire film is an exercise in disappointment, as every avenue for creativity is quickly headed off in favor of hackneyed cliché.

Consider the film’s home invaders. The more we learn about them, the less interesting they become; there is no great reveal that exposes their hitherto hidden motivations—they’re just a group of greedy people. Worse, these criminals are some of the more incompetent and imbecilic miscreants in cinematic history. Through their foibles, they join the ignominious ranks of the laughable thieves of the “Home Alone” franchise—except “Trespass” isn’t meant to be a comedy; it gets there by accident.

The film’s burglars make all the rookie mistakes in the book, from allowing their bound prisoners near enough to knives to cut themselves free, to letting their charges get ahold of guns at various points throughout the movie. The villains even fall into the habit of making long speeches before offing their victims, and thereby conveniently provide their captives with time to escape unnoticed. The best that can be said for this insufferably lackluster excuse for a band of antagonists is that the viewer, too, will surely be rooting for them to be thwarted, if only to get the posse off the screen as soon as possible.

Cage spends most of the movie resisting opening up the family’s safe for no apparent reason. Kidman’s character, for her part, remains illogically devoted to Cage, even as he repeatedly makes the absolute worst decisions one could in such a hostage situation. He continually puts his family’s lives in jeopardy to avoid paying the criminals the relatively paltry sum that they demand. Meanwhile, in a great waste of acting talent, Kidman spends half of the movie crying incoherently and the other half yelling things like, “Not my husband!” and “Please spare my daughter!” Taken in light of her and her husband’s incredibly poor choices throughout, these pleas are plodding rather than moving.

Lack of brain power and poor decision-making appear to run in the Miller family. The couple’s teenage daughter Avery (Liana Liberato) offers a glimmer of intelligence when she uses drugs, a car, and a lighter to free herself and go for help. Yet she subsequently manages to get recaptured—multiple times—in some of the most lunkheaded ways possible.

And it’s not just the Millers whose actions seem to be dictated more by plot expediency than common sense. At one point in the movie, the family manages to activate their home alarm. Of course, when the alarm company calls, the daughter is forced to tell the representative that there is no need to send a police car. The alarm company agent, certainly a nominee for dumbest employee of the month, determines that everything is fine, despite the inordinate pauses and broken sobs transmitting through the receiver.

In what would be a coup for most films, “Trespass” repeatedly manages to put the audience in the shoes of its protagonists. Unfortunately, here this means evoking a sense of being helplessly trapped with no hope of escape. At least viewers are guaranteed their freedom after 90 minutes.