The Shrouds

Compared to the very mediocre "Crimes of the Future", Cronenberg's previous effort and return to the body horror subgenre that made his fame, "The Shrouds" is a return to doing something... acceptable might be the right word? But like in that previous film, in almost every scene of "The Shrouds" you are likely to think of another similar Cronenberg movie that, very probably, did it better. You might, most notably, be reminded of the awesome "Crash", which dealt with similar themes of macabre voyeurism and sexual fascination for death, physical corruption and wounds much more memorably. It is the curse of older, accomplished filmmakers that their latest offerings are ceaselessly compared to their earlier masterpieces, but it's also inevitable when said filmmakers are so clearly out of fresh ideas.

That the story, which is far more elaborate than in "Crimes of the Future", goes literally nowhere, is no major issue - it is only an epiphenomenon to play with more fundamental themes. But it is still a slog to follow our rather bland protagonist through an investigation of sorts that becomes more tedious by the minute. I challenge you to actually care about any of the answers surrounding the many mysteries at the heart of "The Shrouds".

Not that you should expect any answers anyway. What matters is our protagonist's psyche, which is made clear by the opening scene (and I guess by the very last one, which made part of the packed auditorium laugh by its rather spectacular dropping of the story in the middle of nowhere). Those two scenes do work in conveying the idea that the story really is about processing one's grief over the passing of a loved one, which makes sense given that Cronenberg drew from the death of his wife to dream up the story. Yet, again, everything feels like a late variation (if not actual repetition) of things Cronenberg already did and said, rather than a new, late-age angle on these same issues.

What bugs me most is how the protagonist never feels like he is really troubled in his psychic core by what is happening to him; Vincent Cassel, who is certainly the equal of James Woods or James Spader, is pretty good as the cool, cold tech entrepreneur who's into minimalism and crypto necrophilia, but when it comes to expressing any kind of compulsion and fascination, there simply is too little to sustain the movie. Even worse perhaps, his supposed fascination never feels real, authentic, consuming. No descent into the shadow side for our hero, no journey through the unexplored, gross swamps of his soul - or of contemporary society's.

And that, to me, is the most disappointing about "The Shrouds". How the other pole of the director's oeuvre, technology, is never actually addressed. His best horror films explore the collective unconscious and how we human beings relate to technology. How there is no real opposition between the organic and machinic but an actual symbiosis-in-coming. How we are meant by our instincts and unconscious desires to reappropriate and merge and do unspeakable things with our gadgets. Nothing like that here, with an interesting premise that is never actually explored. Featuring mobile phones, self-driving Teslas and a personal AI just feels like checking uninspired boxes. The A. I. assistant portion of the plot should, like so much else, have been elaborated on, although I get the idea - behind our machinery and supposedly autonomous tech, there's us and and our unavowed, shameful longings. Too bad "The Shrouds" decides to stay on the surface rather than dig out the dead bodies that haunt our fantasies.

Made after losing his wife to cancer in 2017, The Shrouds is a movie where Cronenberg explores the topic of grief. At its best, it shows how the memory of a loved one infects everything in your life afterwards, to the point of losing sight of what's real. Vincent Cassel plays Karsch , an alter ego of David Cronenberg, with uncanny physical resemblance. That the movie uses fantasy to explore the theme of grief in the most conceptual of ways is a strength. It digs, asks questions, and you experience during the movie the confusion that Karsh endures in life. It depicts grief as a form of craziness, almost a mental disease. It's interesting.

At the same time, the whole thing is so conceptual and so dark that it's hard to follow. Maybe I wasn't mentally ready for it. But it felt long, a bit boring, very confusing. I think it's the goal of the whole movie, but you need to be prepared for it when you go in. This is not a movie that will grab you. You will have to make an effort to go through it.

David Cronenberg's latest cinematic offering, "The Shrouds," left me pondering one burning question: Did Elon Musk finance this as a 2-hour Tesla commercial, or was it just a happy accident? 🤑

In a plot that feels like a well-worn shroud itself, Karsh, an innovative businessman (read: Tesla enthusiast), builds a device to connect with the dead inside burial shrouds. If this sounds familiar, that's because Cronenberg has done it all before (voyeurism, obsession with death)-only much better, with fewer gadgets and more substance.

The film drifts through themes of grief, technology, and, of course, an obligatory dystopian future with bad Russians/Chinese. All the while, you're left wondering why any of this needed to exist in 2024, except as a reminder us to treat data security seriously.

In the end, The Shrouds might only serve to remind us of how much better Cronenberg's earlier work was-or maybe just how much we all need a Tesla.

This was a disappointing movie outing. After Crimes of the Future featured a committed exploration of a weird slice of dystopian future life, I was hoping for more of the same here. Meanwhile, what we get are several disjointed, partially explored ideas mixed together, a meandering narrative, and an unsatisfying ending. Is this a political thriller? A familial drama? A physiological body horror? And the unrealistic, spoon-fed dialogue, which unfortunately seems characteristic of Canadian cinema (I say this as a Canadian). I kept waiting to feel something, to be intrigued by some thought provoking ideas, but it never happened. If you must watch this, save your money and wait until it streams.

The Shrouds, directed by David Cronenberg, begins with a hauntingly intriguing premise: a near-future world where custom-designed tombs allow the living to view their deceased loved ones in real time. Vincent Cassel portrays Karsh, the enigmatic inventor of this macabre innovation, navigating a frozen landscape of grief, obsession, and longing. The film's opening offers a glimpse into Cronenberg's flair for unsettling, cerebral storytelling, but the promise quickly unravels into a convoluted and excessive narrative.

Cassel delivers a restrained performance, perfectly capturing Karsh's detachment and obsession, while Diane Kruger as his deceased wife and Soo-Min as a potential client's blind spouse provide compelling, if underutilized, presences. However, the supporting characters, including Jennifer Dale as Karsh's former sister-in-law and love interest, are sidelined by a sprawling plotline that veers into espionage, eco-activism, and corporate conspiracy. These elements feel disconnected, detracting from the emotional core of the story.

Cronenberg's signature exploration of body horror and the grotesque resurfaces here, but the graphic depictions of mutilation and surgery feel more gratuitous than meaningful, overshadowing the thematic depth the film initially hints at. The film's focus on existential musings about grief and attachment is muddled by its insistence on indulging in sensationalist visuals and a jumbled narrative.

Adding to the film's shortcomings is an overuse of product placement, which distracts from the immersive atmosphere and undermines its artistic integrity. The Shrouds falters in its attempt to balance intellectual ambition with visceral spectacle, leaving audiences with a fragmented and unsatisfying experience.

Rating: 5/10 - A promising concept buried under excessive spectacle and an overcomplicated plot.