‘Inheritance’ (2025) Review – Phoebe Dynevor Trots The Globe In Neil Burger’s Solid iPhone-Shot Thriller

One of the main problems with the original cast of Netflix’s uber-popular period romance series Bridgerton was that each actor was regrettably inflicted with a condition called “smartphone face.” In other words, they all looked like they’d seen a smartphone before, a vital quality that most performers in this day and age possess yet not something you always want. When you’re meant to convince audiences that you’re puttering around English castles and manors amidst the Regency era, appearing as though you might have posted an Instagram story moments before “Action!” was called can be less than ideal for some viewers. It’s certainly why I balked at the presence of both Regé-Jean Page and Phoebe Dynevor, whose iPhones can be seen practically bulging out of their pockets as they waltzed from ballrooms to bedrooms in the show’s first 19th century-set season. But the problems with Bridgerton spread far beyond its co-leads; to blame their “modern” faces would be akin to blaming the horny gamut of Netflix patrons for the show’s existence itself. Causation, correlation, etc.

The fresh-faced Page and Dynevor felt more aesthetically equipped for their follow-up roles in The Gray Man and Fair Play, respectively, two Netflix thrillers of varying quality, but those that at least let them operate in a technology-addled present where they fit in without standing out too much. (That is, if you’re capable of glancing past their model-worthy good looks.) Of the two, it’s Dynevor who has thus far seemed to be the more talented of this once royally entangled duo, with Fair Play serving as a showcase for her darker dramatic chops. In a way, Neil Burger’s Inheritance could feasibly be a fan-fic sequel to Chloe Domont’s 2023 debut, one in which Dynevor’s Emily leaves the cutthroat hedge fund world behind, only to end up getting caught in the web of deceit her father (Rhys Ifans) has been weaving since he left her and her mother years before. That might be a bit of a stretch, however, given the sleek glint that Fair Play wore like a streaming badge of honor, one that Inheritance sheds and then some in favor of a lo-fi style that Burger’s previous films have never possessed. 

Working from a script he co-wrote with the spy fiction novelist Olen Steinhauer, Inheritance shares some thematic tissue with many of Burger’s past efforts, i.e. the notion of outsiders coming into “powers” that complicate their existences; in that vein, it’s reminiscent of Limitless and the first Divergent film, though both of those films embrace their science fiction environs that this particular vehicle rejects in favor of realism. The kicker here is that Burger and cinematographer Jackson Hunt shot the film entirely on an iPhone 13, a quality viewers will feel from the moment the camera clicks on. It’s not done shakily nor with an amateurish sensibility, but the grainy film that older smartphones tend to be saddled with serves the proceedings, making it look documentary-like in nature.

Perhaps that’s a cheap way to describe filmmaking that isn’t done with massive camera rigs and crews made up of hundreds, but with how movies shot on iPhones have rapidly evolved beyond the Sean Bakers and Steven Soderberghs of the world, it’s worth noting how raw every shot in Inheritance feels as it unfolds on screen. The news that the forthcoming 28 Years Later film would be the first blockbuster to be shot with such technology was a surprise to many – and many more once its incredible first trailer was released in December – yet set photos have proven that the extensions tacked on to the smartphone itself make it far more akin to the cameras we tend to see on large productions. Inheritance, meanwhile, appears as though Hunt was actually just holding the phone like one might expect a YouTuber to, perhaps in his hand or on a selfie stick for more stability. “There was no wait time for camera set-ups, no makeup checks, or rehearsals,” Burger told IndieWire back in January. “We’d arrive at the location and then immediately shoot as much as we could in the time that we had. It enabled us to travel with a small crew and have to stay in character a lot.” 

That this was the case is abundantly clear in Dynevor’s performance as Maya, a twentysomething New Yorker whose personality seems to have been coarsely shaped by the circumstances of her upbringing. Evidently, Maya is a loner, one who is first seen shoplifting liquor – her borderline kleptomania is a theme throughout the film – before she heads to a dance club, meets a stranger, and uses him for emotionless sex, all in a night’s work. This temperament stems from a recent past that is just as troubled as her youth likely was, as until her mother’s recent death, Maya had been her primary caretaker, all in the apartment where she now lives. When Sam (a mysterious, occasionally menacing Ifans), her long-absent father, surprisingly attends the funeral and approaches Maya with a business proposition that sends her to Cairo, it doesn’t take long for the circumstances of Sam’s past as a spy to come to light. When he is kidnapped in the middle of their first meal together in years, Maya is thrown into the fray of his erstwhile misdeeds as a covert agent; with great power, bestowed upon her by her shady father, comes great responsibility, though not the kind she ever asked for.

The events that follow won’t feel particularly revelatory to anyone who has frequented the spy-centric cinematic well enough to have a familiarity with every trope from Bond to Bourne, but Burger’s staging is what allows Inheritance to succeed beyond the trappings that could have otherwise hampered its conceit. Hunt’s camera is often capturing Dynevor’s Maya in close-up shots that perfectly – if a bit obviously – portray the claustrophobic reality that rapidly descends around her once self-dictated life. And it’s this register that allows Dynevor to shine, turning the best performance of her young career as a tortured woman whose personal journey is as full of twists and turns as the film in which it unfolds. It’s trite to call a turn that is so heavily focused on an actor’s face “emotional,” if only because that distinction often eschews everything else the actor (and the character, by extension) has to do in order to make it work. But Dynevor is an emotive performer by nature, one who is naturally capable of registering a multitude of emotions just by shifting her brow in reaction to another character’s deceptive ways. Here, that character is often Sam, and Ifans’ range is just as resonant, a lifelong character actor pouring in stellar work as a suspect second lead. 

Most criticisms of Inheritance have brought up a lack of chemistry between Dynevor and Ifans as a hang-up, though in a story like this, one where a daughter reconnects with her estranged father only to immediately come into conflict with him due to his own actions, isn’t a lack of connection precisely the point? Burger and Steinhauer make it clear that while Maya and Sam’s relationship is meant to propel their film forward, they never intended to make this a heartwarming drama about how familial baggage is mended through international espionage. Perhaps it being too reliant on its DIY makeup to ever fully flesh out its characters is a more worthwhile critique; for instance, Maya is repeatedly referred to as an intensely driven person, though the only proof of that comes in the undesired circumstances of her newfound responsibilities. By contrast, Sam is a meddling force whose willingness to once leave his family has since evolved into an urge to manipulate them. But what exactly inspired that choice? Was it the job, his other family, or something else entirely?

These questions might be better answered in another movie, but as it stands, Inheritance is almost more enhanced by that ambiguity than it is hindered. Its prologue – introducing us to a grieving woman who doesn’t really know how to grieve – provides us with the general picture of a character; its climactic core sends her on an unknown path ripe with discovery; its conclusion, while a bit too clean to feel consequential, feels right in stride with its thematic and deceit-ridden plot. Inheritance isn’t strong nor clever enough to deceive us on its own, but without providing much context regarding its characters or their motivations, it leaves the necessary room for audiences to clamor for answers that the most astute spy thrillers aren’t willing to provide on a platter. Burger’s efforts here don’t quite get Inheritance over that threshold, but its competence and unique stylistic approach make it come close.

Inheritance is currently available on digital platforms courtesy of IFC Films.