Innate Review: Netflix Crime Drama That Thinks It’s Smarter

TL;DR

Innate is what happens when a crime thriller lies down on a couch and refuses to get back up.

Innate is a solid, occasionally gripping crime series that takes itself very seriously and sometimes forgets that thrillers are meant to thrill. The performances are strong, the premise is nasty in all the right ways, but the pacing and writing occasionally wander off to write in a journal.

Worth watching. Not unforgettable. Slightly smug. Like a criminal who read one psychology book and won’t shut up about it.

Watching Innate without preparation is like going into therapy armed with a spoon.

Do it properly. Wrap yourself in a weighted blanket that feels like unresolved childhood trauma hugging you back, kill the world with Sony WH-1000XM5 noise-cancelling headphones, and stare into the void responsibly.

Amazon sells both. Cheaper than therapy.

Daddy Issues, But Make It Murder

Let’s start with the good news. Innate understands one essential truth: criminals are always more interesting than everyone else in the room. Especially when they’re your father.

A serial killer dad gets released from prison, murders reminiscent of his old work start popping up, and suddenly everyone’s uncomfortable family dinner gets very… forensic. Delicious. Morally dubious. Exactly the sort of mess CRIMENET approves of.

There are no shiny hero cops here. No inspiring speeches. Just trauma, suspicion, and the creeping sense that therapy didn’t quite do the trick. We’re already on board.

Fast Crimes, Slow Feelings

On paper, this should sprint. In practice, it power-walks while sighing heavily.

Innate doesn’t rush anything. Ever. It lingers. It pauses. It reflects. It gazes into the middle distance like it’s waiting for applause at an art-house festival. When it’s tense, it’s gripping. When it isn’t, you’ll start checking if the pause button is stuck.

This is a crime series that occasionally forgets it’s meant to commit crimes and instead invites you to unpack childhood trauma for 50 minutes straight. Which is brave. But also mildly exhausting.

Broken People Doing Their Best (Which Isn’t Much)

Elena Anaya carries this show like a woman dragging a family curse uphill in heels. She’s excellent: brittle, controlled, and permanently two seconds away from snapping. Imanol Arias as the father is quietly unnerving, the kind of calm that makes you instinctively lock your doors.

Everyone else? Perfectly fine. Adequate. Present. They do their jobs, say their lines, and politely step aside so the emotional wreckage can continue center stage.

No cardboard performances here. But also no one stealing scenes like a true lunatic should.

Everyone Talks Like They’re Mid-Breakthrough

This is where Netflix’s house style sneaks in wearing beige trousers.

Some lines crackle with menace. Others sound like they were written by a committee whose main fear was being too interesting. You’ll hear a lot of very serious people explaining how very serious everything is, just in case you missed it.

Nobody talks like this in real life. But then again, nobody in real life has this many unresolved issues either.

Welcome Home, Please Lock the Door

Credit where it’s due: the atmosphere is properly grim. Suburban streets feel hostile, homes feel unsafe, and even daylight scenes have that faint “something terrible is about to happen” energy.

It looks lived-in, not glossy. More damp concrete than polished marble. This is not crime tourism. It’s crime with a mild headache.

By now, you’re tense, suspicious of your parents, and judging everyone in your living room.

This is where a Bialetti Moka Express enters the room like an Italian uncle shouting “DRINK THIS.” Pair it with an adult stress ball (yes, they exist, yes, you need one) and suddenly the pacing feels intentional.

Buy them on Amazon before Netflix asks you how this episode made you feel.

Serious Faces, Serious Camera Angles

The direction is competent, controlled, and allergic to showing off. There are moments of real tension, clever framing, and slow dread that works beautifully.

There are also moments where you can feel the director whispering, “Stay with me. This is meaningful.”

And you are staying. Mostly. But you’re also wondering when someone is going to do something reckless.

Sad Strings, Loud Silence

The score hums, broods, and occasionally sulks. It never embarrasses itself, but it never grabs you by the throat either. Think “respectable background menace” rather than “iconic crime theme you’ll hum in the shower.”

It does its job. It does not start a cult.

Nature vs Nurture vs Everyone Needs Therapy

Innate loves asking big questions. Is evil inherited? Can you ever escape your bloodline? Is your dad’s hobby of murder technically your fault?

The answers are murky, uncomfortable, and refreshingly uninterested in moral clarity. No one here gets a clean conscience. Everyone gets consequences. CRIMENET approves.

One Night Stand, Not a Marriage

You’ll binge it once. Possibly over two nights. Then you’ll remember it fondly… without urgently needing to revisit it.

This isn’t comfort crime. It’s “well, that was heavy” crime. Good, but not something you throw on for fun after a long day unless your idea of relaxing involves existential dread.

Season Two or Group Therapy?

As a single-season experience, it works. As a long-running franchise? It would need sharper pacing and a bit more narrative bite to avoid collapsing under its own seriousness.

Potential is there. Swagger is… still in therapy.

Finished Innate and now you trust nobody? Good. You’re learning.

Secure the perimeter with a portable door lock (real product, real paranoia), write your feelings in a therapy journal you’ll never show anyone, and sleep like a criminal who got away with it.All on Amazon. All cheaper than another season.

FAQ

Is Innate worth watching on Netflix? Yes, if you enjoy slow-burning crime and emotional damage served with subtitles.

Is Innate a fast-paced thriller? Absolutely not. It strolls. Thoughtfully.

Is Innate scary? More unsettling than scary. Like realizing your family group chat has secrets.

Does Innate glorify criminals? Not glorify. But it definitely finds them more interesting than the law-abiding.

Will there be a Season 2? Possibly. Therapy takes time.