The Inheritance

The Inheritance begins with a trunk, stuffed with books penned across decades. Julian (Lockley) is thumbing through these books, all of which are important Black literature. This trunk resides in a house that now belongs to him, a house inherited from his great-grandmother. The house vibrates with Black culture, from the books, to records, to magazines, and while Julian shuffles through this cornucopia of history, he has an idea: He wants his girlfriend, Gwen (Mclean) to move in with him. Together, they build a community within the house, a hub for Black liberationists.

Director Asili layers in documentary with narrative to teach his audience as much as he aims to entertain it. There’s a rhythm to The Inheritance that’s hypnotic: Long, musical segments flow into powerful monologues of poetry and speech, which lead to important historical recounts, specifically the history of Black rights activist John Africa and his organization MOVE. The parallels between MOVE and Julian and Gwen’s community are not obvious, but they are sharp. MOVE was a Black separatist group that built their confraternity on natural living in a communal setting, and everything Africa built was lost on May 13, 1985, when the Philadelphia Police Department bombed his house, killing him and 10 other peoples.

In the kitchen of Julian’s home, an enormous poster for Jean-Luc Godard’s La Chinoise is firmly planted in the center: fitting, as both stories explore a small community bent on massive societal change. The Inheritance borrows a lot from Godard and French New Wave cinema: from its abrupt cuts to its striking use of color, and much more obviously its engagement with politics. Godard’s film is a quiet reminder to the viewer and the members of Julian’s community of their purpose, their passion. The house may argue over tiny, insufferable roommate issues like shoes on or off, but at the end of the day their goals are for much more grandeur.

A poetry reading closes out the film. Poetry is the art form that permeates The Inheritance the most, feeding into the film’s life. When it’s over, Julian is left alone in the cleanup. It’s a thankless chore, but one that offers reflection after such a lively event. The film ends with a mix of uncertainty, hope, and a little bit of fear for Julian and Gwen. As the camera looms over an abandoned, local rusty playground, that mixture of emotions is personified. The future of the community they built is unpredictable.

The Inheritance is a metrical, stunning piece of cinema. There’s so much to unpack within its layers, and its vision and dissection of what Blackness means for Julian and his community is absorbing, perceptive, and stirring. Asili is truly a talent worth keeping an eye on.

Available now as a virtual cinema release.