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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.

At it's base it's not a terrible movie, the problem is that the base consists of so many ideas and subjects that it's hard not to get lost in all of the mess.

It's a critique of technological advance, AI, privacy & spyware, (experimental) surgeries and health, the Chinese, capitalism, rich people, modern society and so on and so on ... The bad writing doesn't help either, the dialogue can be stupid or just straight up exposition, the story jumps between characters and plot lines in a sloppy way, and I know (or at least think) that some of the dialogue is self aware and doesn't take itself seriously, which made it corny, funny (the audience laughed from time to time) and honestly fun. You can consider this movie a "so bad it's good" movie, at least that's how I see it, I certainly didn't suffer.

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.

Cronenberg's 2024 film explores death and technology. The film surrounded the idea of grieving with the story of Karsh (Vincent Cassel) is a wealthy tech-entrepreneur mourning the death of his wife. His influence within the tech field, using a new software (called "Shroud") for mourning tradition that the living surviving loved ones can use.

His wife's body, is documented with cameras showing the decaying process, connected to cellular apps, etc.. Personal technology allows for the mourning to continue - it's the digital age for necromancy? A love like Cassel's obsession with his wife's body, that he projects onto to his wife's sister both roles played by Diane Kruger.

The rest of the film becomes almost noir-like amateur sleuth story. Karsh trying to solve recent desecrated cemetery plots including his wife's burial spot. The film's pace swifts into subplots, it's bit of a sidetracked.

The film is different from his recent productions, set in Canada. Its tone is somber, almost quiet not relying gore or onscreen violence. The most violent reference is the desecrated burials (which isn't seen and the other is Cancer. The terminal illness killed Karsh's wife (within his dreams, flashback scenes).

The film got critical reactions since Cronenberg's motivation was the death of the director's wife, Carolyn. Aesthetically, this film wasn't really exploring body horror, completely abandoned even the gore effects. Yes, it can be suggested as a decaying corpse to body deformation caused by Cancer and it's surgeries on Karsh's late wife.

Moreover, it explores Westernized traditions of memorialize the dead, mourning process catches up with 21st century technology: social media culture. If this is Cronenberg's prediction in the near future of memorialization? It's pretty credible that wealthy tech icons could be exploring. He puts quite of bit in tech aspects from encryption to resolution topics, throws off film's humanistic focus.

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.

Greetings again from the darkness. Director David Cronenberg is renowned for his brand of 'body horror', although his canon has certainly not been limited to the genre. Some of his films across the past fifty years include CRIMES OF THE FUTURE (2022), COSMOPOLIS (2012), A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE (2005), CRASH (1996), DEAD RINGERS (1988), THE FLY (1986), VIDEODROME (1983), THE DEAD ZONE (a personal favorite,1983), and SCANNERS (1981). With his latest, Cronenberg offers a taste of what he's known for, but mostly focuses on the extreme repercussions of grief.

Grief is an emotion that hits us all hard at some point. Karsh (the always great Vincent Cassel) lost his wife four years ago, and his vision since has been to create a specialized, internet-based cemetery named GraveTech where grieving folks can observe the decay of lost loved ones ... all from the convenience of their iPhone app. Cronenberg regulars should prepare themselves for a film and story that has the feel of a stage production - meaning it's the dialogue and conversation that is crucial here, more so than the visual presentation (although there are a few stellar moments in that area as well).

Diane Kruger plays two roles here. One is Karsh's deceased ex-wife Becca, who we (and Karsh) see in hallucinations or visions. Her other role is as Becca's surviving sister Terry, a dog groomer who is dealing with her own grief. Lastly, a significant role is played by Guy Pearce as Terry's ex-husband, Maury ... a frumpy, paranoid, techno geek. Maury's skills have created Hunny, an AI avatar meant to provide companionship and advice to Karsh. Oh, and Diane Kruger also voices Hunny.

The thrust of the story revolves around the fallout of the targeted vandalism of a few of the gravesites, creating suspicion as to whether it's an international conspiracy or something less provocative. Of course, this is Cronenberg, so a traditional arc is not in the cards. Instead, he provides some stunning visuals (not violence, but definitely a shocking shift from what movies traditionally show) meant to convey the drastic changes that occur with the bodies we too often take for granted, especially when cancer is involved. Politics are touched on, and it's probably the first time you've ever heard a dentist speak the line, "Grief is rotting your teeth." Eroticism and obsession are key motivators here, so if you are willing, the psychological aspects of Cronenberg's film could fill many post-viewing debates. Whether this film strikes a chord with you or not, I remain thrilled and humbled that this octogenarian continues to do things his way.

Opens in theaters on April 25, 2025.

David Cronenberg's latest film "The Shrouds"- presented at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival-is a deeply personal meditation on grief, mortality, and the strange future of death.

Written in the years following the passing of his wife Carolyn in 2017, Cronenberg takes that emotional foundation further by casting Vincent Cassel as his clear cinematic doppelgänger, reinforcing the intimate, autobiographical nature of the film.

Marketed as a profoundly personal reckoning with grief and a descent into noir-tinged dystopia, "The Shrouds" delivers exactly that-layered with a touch of dark humor.

While it echoes themes and aesthetics from Cronenberg's past works-Spider, Videodrome, Naked Lunch, Crash-this film ultimately carves out its own space. It resists categorization, existing instead as a haunting artistic expression of Cronenberg's personal sorrow. In essence, "The Shrouds" isn't just a film; it's a cinematic eulogy, built on the decomposing bodies of its characters, confronting the raw horror of human fragility.

Rather than retelling the plot-complex and tangled as a spider's web, and easily found in trailers or synopses-I'd rather focus on the film's core themes and the impression it left on me.

At its heart, "The Shrouds" is a dystopian puzzle, obsessed with grief and the voyeuristic impulse to peer into death itself. In a world increasingly defined by surveillance and digital access, our collective morbid fascination is no longer metaphorical-it's tangible, and disturbingly real.

The titular "shroud" is a piece of funerary technology: a cloth embedded with countless tiny X-ray cameras, placed inside a coffin to allow loved ones to watch their deceased slowly decompose.

This invention stems from protagonist Karsh's (Cassel) desperate longing to lie beside his wife Bekka (Diane Kruger) in death, and has since become the cornerstone of his high-tech mourning empire. At one point, someone draws a comparison to the Shroud of Turin; Karsh casually dismisses it as a fake. The implication is clear: this is the real thing, and it's horrifying.

There's no question that death is life's most difficult truth to face. Losing someone you love is a trauma that defies reason, and the desire to remain connected-even after death-is achingly human.

But Cronenberg explores this yearning in a deeply unsettling way, reimagining cemeteries not just as places of mourning, but as sites of strange, macabre entertainment. It's painful, haunting, and brutally honest-perhaps the clearest glimpse we've ever had into Cronenberg's own soul.

Some scenes strike with visceral metaphorical power. In fragmented flashbacks, Karsh recalls tender moments with Bekka as her illness progresses-each embrace a risk, her body growing so fragile that even affection becomes dangerous.

We often associate love with gentleness, but Cronenberg asks us to reconsider that: what if love is inherently bound to fragility and decay?

The film forces us to confront that intersection-symbolically, emotionally, and physically-drawing us into the terrifying inevitability of aging and loss. It's as though Cronenberg is transmitting from the other side of grief, from a place beyond consolation.

The film also evokes comparisons to the real-world work of Gunther von Hagens (a German anatomist who pioneered the plastination technique-a groundbreaking method for preserving biological tissue specimens), and his plastinated corpses, as well as the "peeping tom" impulses common in horror fandom-a desire to look into the afterlife, to see death. And it reminds us that this isn't just a genre quirk-it's a societal impulse.

The dystopia in "The Shrouds" isn't some distant sci-fi future-it feels chillingly close. The film touches on themes of mental illness, addiction, and destructive desire (reminiscent of earlier Cronenberg works), while also weaving in threads of advanced technology, artificial intelligence, international paranoia, and xenophobia.

Unfortunately, many of these intriguing ideas remain underdeveloped, sketched more than fully explored. At times, "The Shrouds" feels less like a cohesive narrative and more like a collection of powerful notes toward a larger, unfinished project.

One subplot-Karsh investigating an act of vandalism at his futuristic cemetery with the help of his associate Maury-feels more like a device to carry us from theme to theme rather than a driving plot.

The film also quietly raises the idea of how different cultures and religions process death-a subtle layer that, while not heavily emphasized, adds depth to the broader commentary.

As the credits rolled, I found myself asking, "What did I just watch?" But that confusion felt right.

"The Shrouds" isn't meant to offer answers. It's a cinematic expression of grief so personal it resists conventional interpretation. Each viewer will take something different from it-and that, I think, is the point.

One final thought lingered: David's daughter, Caitlin Cronenberg, made her directorial debut last year with "Humane," a film very different in tone and style, yet also centered around death.

It's hard not to wonder whether these two films, father and daughter's respective explorations of mortality, stem from the same emotional origin-the loss of a wife and mother.

If so, that shared grief has birthed two deeply resonant, if radically different, works of art. In the end, "The Shrouds" isn't trying to comfort-it's trying to haunt. And in that, it succeeds.

I am so excited that David Cronenberg put this film out and that he still has fresh ideas, which didn't seem to be the case in his last film. Crimes of the Future felt like a greatest hits compilation for the director and it was not particularly engaging. I was thrilled to be intrigued by The Shrouds from the first scene! However, the film ends up being simply one philosophical conversation between characters after another while nearly nothing happens in the plot. And while the ideas are intriguing and the characters do find some level of dimension, this film is all telling with no showing and eventually frustrates the viewer. I enjoyed the fresh ideas but struggled with the fact that this was a film, I still look forward to his next work! Cronenberg has had a marvelous career and still has us thinking.

Interesting premise but terrible overall. I did watch it to the end but considered several times to give up.

It was a convoluted story that never really made sense or went anywhere meaningful.

I also thought Vincent Cassel was the wrong choice for the lead.

Guy Pearce was recently terrific in The Brutalist but dissapoints here in a role that doesn't have much to offer.

Would have worked far better as a straight up horror IMO.

Only for the most die hard Cronenberg fan.

The Shrouds (French: Les Linceuls) is a 2024 body horror drama film written and directed by David Cronenberg, and starring Diane Kruger, Vincent Cassel, Guy Pearce, and Sandrine Holt. The film is a co-production between Canada and France.

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.

It's disappointing to see a talented filmmaker lose his way in one of his works. Unfortunately, that's precisely the problem with the latest effort from acclaimed writer-director David Cronenberg in a film that seemingly had potential but fails to pull it together in the final product. Karsh Relikh (Vincent Cassel) is a successful Canadian businessman consumed with grief over the death of his wife, Becca (Diane Kruger), who attempts to cope with his loss by inventing a questionable and arguably macabre technology that allows survivors to peer into the graves of their departed loved ones to, for lack of a better explanation, monitor the deterioration of the deceaseds' corpses. From this premise (and the misleading trailer), one might get the impression that this would be a story with dark, spooky, supernatural overtones. However, as it plays out, the film goes from tangent to tangent to tangent without direction or satisfactory closure, leading viewers on a wild goose chase that, in the end, feels unresolved and incomplete. This alleged horror offering (which is admittedly not particularly scary or engaging) is actually more of a mystery/psychological thriller that ends up weaving a jumbled web of story arcs involving ever-evolving incidents of international business espionage and technological intrigue, the paranoid (and head-scratchingly erotically driven) ravings of Becca's conspiracy theory-obsessed sister, Terry (Kruger in a dual role), the love-starved pining of Terry's unbalanced ex-husband and expert computer hacker, Maury (Guy Pearce), and Karsh's tawdry affair with Soo-Min (Sandrine Holt), the blind wife of a dying Hungarian corporate magnate (Vieslav Krystyan) who wants to invest in the expansion Karsh's graveyard technology venture, among other puzzling and seemingly unrelated narrative threads. Add to this the picture's glacial pacing and a series of overlong and not especially revelatory dream sequences, and viewers are left with a genuinely bizarre offering. To its credit, the production features some inventive cinematography, a capable collection of performances, and a surprising wealth of inspired and perfectly timed comic relief (truly one of the film's best attributes), but these assets aren't enough to save a sinking ship that plunges deeper and deeper the longer this release goes on, all the way up to its abrupt and unfulfilling conclusion. This clearly is one of those productions that's likely to prompt many audience members to ask, "What was the director thinking?", a justifiable inquiry, to be sure. Cronenberg has produced a fine body of work over the course of his career, but it's nearly impossible to fathom what he was going for here.

David Cronenberg has dreamed up one hell of a fascinating high concept premise for his new scifi/horror The Shrouds: melancholy tycoon Karsh (Vincent Cassel) has patented a new and controversial technology that places tiny drone-like cameras into the caskets of deceased loved ones, allowing bereaved relatives to observe their decomposing remains in real time on screens built into the tombstones up top. 'GraveTech,' he calls it, and it comes complete with an app allowing people to remotely monitor the feed, as if the analog idea alone isn't enough to foster an unhealthy unwillingness to let the relatives go, smartphone technology adds fuel to the disconcerting fire. Karsh himself is hopelessly tethered to his dubious invention, clinging to the decaying remains of his wife (Diane Kruger), long passed away of cancer, and the spiritual reminder they imprint onto his haunted psyche. There is a dimly unspooling subplot about corporate espionage, grave vandalism by unsupportive fundamentalists and a muttering Guy Pearce as Karsh's twitchy techie brother in law but Cronenberg sifts through any pulse-raising intrigue and seems content to marinate alongside Karsh in his grief which, like anyone's, is a confusing and persistently non-linear process. David's most personal films have a funny way of dealing with human interaction and dialogue; scenes are mumbled monotonously but not in a half assed fashion, more so in a stylistically minimalist way, like the most analytical approach to dream logic one could hope to emulate onscreen. This one fully embraces that and if you do as well, you'll have a great time. I suspect most Cronenberg fans already surrender to that aesthetic vernacular and will gladly wallow in this hazy, half conscious science fiction parable that sneakily tried to pass itself off as a thriller in marketing, yet remains something decidedly more meandering and enigmatic upon absorption.

I watched the new Cronenberg film Shrouds (2024) in theaters this evening. The story follows a man who, after losing his wife, builds a tech company and a restaurant chain inspired by her death. As he becomes increasingly obsessed with her decaying body, his grip on reality begins to slip, leading to a series of questionable choices.

Written and directed by David Cronenberg (Videodrome), the film stars Vincent Cassel (Black Swan), Guy Pearce (Memento), and Diane Kruger (Inglourious Basterds).

For a $500k production, the film looks incredibly polished-10/10 in terms of casting, styling, set design, and cinematography. It has a sleek, high-end feel and carries the tone of Black Mirror mixed with a distinctly European arthouse vibe. The performances are top-tier, and the dialogue is sharp and thought-provoking. I especially appreciated the raw depiction of cancer's physical and emotional toll on a couple-it was one of the most affecting parts of the film.

I admire Cronenberg's attempt to explore new territory, and while the sci-fi elements weren't bad, the pacing leans a bit too heavily into slow-burn territory. The romantic subplot didn't quite work for me, and the ending felt underwhelming given the buildup.

In conclusion, Shrouds is a must-see for Cronenberg fans, but it leans more Cosmopolis than Videodrome. I'd score it a 5.5/10 and recommend seeing it once.

I finally got to see this after waiting for what seemed like an eternity. I wasn't able to catch it at a festival or during its North American release, so was bummed about that, especially after reading all of the mixed and divisive reviews. But then, with Cronenberg what else is new? A lot of people don't "get" or connect with Cronenberg as a filmmaker and honestly that is understandable. I'm just thankful Cronenberg stays true to his vision and completely ignores the detractors; his films are all the more enjoyable because of it.

Where are people getting off saying this film had bad writing? That's completely laughable. More than one reviewer has mentioned there were parts that were unintentionally funny. Are you sure we watched the same film? Because I saw plenty of moments that were outright and purposefully funny using dialogue that dropped perfectly. If you're looking for a Save-the-Cat, typical Hollywood beat structure, then this probably isn't the movie for you. These are some of the same critics that lament how today's movies lack originality, and then when confronted with an original script that ONLY Cronenberg could have conceived of or written they balk because it didn't hit all of the structural beats they've come to expect from a movie. The truth is, the writing for THE SHROUDS was phenomenal--every single word was precisely chosen and wonderfully delivered by an excellent cast.

Cronenberg's direction was spot as usual and elicited outstanding performances from Cassel, Kruger, Holt, and Pearce. Not a word of complaint there. The cinematography was fantastic. I enjoyed Koch's work in CRIMES OF THE FUTURE but it really stood out in this film as exceptional. I miss Peter Suschitzky's work (did he retire?) but Koch has done an excellent job of picking up the torch and running with it. Carol Spier's work is, as always, impeccable, and the design on this film was fantastic. And Howard Shore--wow, hits it out of the ballpark again with an amazing score! Definitely will have to own that one.

Look folks, I get it, Cronenberg is not for everyone and never has been. I'm just grateful the man is comfortable in his own filmic skin and is more concerned about pursuing his own cinematic obsessions than in pandering to critics and naysayers. If it's not obvious already, let me state for the record that I am a longtime fan of Cronenberg's films. And while I do appreciate all of his films on some level, it's clear, at least to me, that his best films are the ones where he directly contributes to the screenplays as either an original work or as an adaptation of existing material. If I were to set aside the films he's directed but didn't write (a lot of great ones in there to be sure), I might have to go all the way back to CRASH to find one I enjoyed as much as this film. As much as I enjoyed CRIMES OF THE FUTURE and eXistenZ, I enjoyed THE SHROUDS even more.

I'm not going to delve into the plot, themes, or the deeper meanings of the film because this space is way too short to do any justice to those things. But suffice to say, it's all the same Cronenberg obsessions and passions repurposed into a new and exciting package. For those who follow and appreciate the ongoing Cronenberg "project," I think you'll really like this film. For everyone else, it may leave you a bit stumped and. A lot of people are baffled by Fellini, Bergman, and Kurosawa as well and that okay, to each their own. Cronenberg fans should find a lot to enjoy here though; I certainly did and can't wait to own once it hits physical media. Highly recommended!

A+ 5 stars Thumbs up 10/10.

David Cronenberg has done a great favor to those of us who try to write about his new film, "The Shrouds". Critics often make half-baked presumptions about the relations between an artist's work and their life, which most often are denied by the artist. Cronenberg, however, has prominently asserted that, yes, this tale of a person's macabre way of mourning their dead spouse is a response to the death of the writer-director's wife and that "The Shrouds" is the closest Cronenberg has offered to an autobiographical film, or at least a kind of cinematic self-portrait. It is surprising, then, that this is one of the octogenarian filmmaker's most irreverent works, one might even say his first comedy.

"The Shrouds" is a work fueled by disgust- at the state of the world, the pain of loss, even the self and its artistic practice. Those who dislike the film- and most will- might say that Cronenberg's art has deteriorated to the point of self-parody. I think the film constitutes intentional self-parody, a pasquinade of everything Cronenberg is experiencing in old age. The viewer has the uncomfortable feeling that Cronenberg is mocking his own grief, and that might be exactly what he's trying to do.

If "The Shrouds" is irreverent, it is also more immediately directed at our historical reality than other of the filmmaker's works. It might be said to being the closest this director has ever come to the openly political. One of the less discussed aspect's of this oeuvre is its geographic, almost caligrographic dimension. Cronenberg movies are filled with allusions to fantastical locations, some literal, some metaphysical or spiritual. Few filmmakers are as consistent in ending their works with the sense of a completed journey, even if this is a journey to an inevitable destination, like the choreographed transformation from pupa to insect.

Here the geographic allusions are to real places on our planet- specific sites in Iceland, Romania and its primary setting, Toronto. These are all sites of potential burials. The location and storage of corpses is central in this story. It is as if the site of a corpse has become the only proof of life, death the only site of the real. There are many illusions to all too realistic social media data that has come to categorize and "frame" our lives, our selves. If life has become this set of immortal, digitized "facts" then does death really come in our world, and if there is no death, then is there still really life?

Another reoccurring theme in the director's work is of unfathomably complicated and sinister conspiracies concocted by incomprehensible conspirators. The supposed conspirators here are recognizable and realistic: the governments of China and Russia, as well as realistically depicted right and left wing fundamentalists. But the conspiracies here are not causes for wonder but bemused disappointment- like our "Russia-gates" and TikTok panics they are thin excuses for a reality that doesn't deserve to be legitimate but has become so.

Cronenberg has lost his wife and will soon enough lose his life. He has strongly suggested that this will be his last film. He is leaving us with a depiction of exhaustion and disappointment but one that is, I think, a not unbeautiful depiction of negativity.

In 2025 Cinephiles, even Cronenberg Haters, Know Much About the Auteurs "Style" and Fixations. He Gets Under-Your-Skin and Stays There.

Things that Set Him Apart From Run-of-the-Mill Filmmakers.

He is also Definitely Different from even the Best Main-Stream Directors who Deliver Quality, if Formulaic Films.

There are a Few Unique, Off-Beat, and Uncompromising Visionaries with Little Regard for Box-Office Receipts or Critical Back-Lash.

He Fits Comfortably with those Misanthrope Movie-Makers. Other Praised and Scorned Directors such as David Lynch, Robert Altman, Stanley Kubrick, Wes Anderson, and Quentin Tarantino who Give No-Ground When Creating Their Movies.

It's "Art for Art's Sake" and that's what it is.

While Pop-Culture Flows Like a River Carrying the Majority and the Many with it, there are Inevitable Branch-Breaks that Diverge, that are Smaller, but No-Less a Part of the Mass.

Just Large Enough to be Noticed but Within Contain Less-Similar Substance that is the Same but Different.

Cronenberg is and Always has been a Director that Went "Quirky" into the "Wild" Developing Flourishes and Fun to be Had from Not Being the Regular-Stuff.

A Differentness, a Treat, a Singular Sensation, a "Path Less Traveled" and Therefore Sure to be a Surprising Peek from the Ordinary.

"The Shrouds" is Cronenberg Being Cronenberg, for Better or Worse, Take it or Leave it. It is what it is.

A "Fun-House" Film Full of Odd-Ball Characters (an entrepreneur grieving incessantly over his departed wife, a woman "turned-on" and aroused by "conspiracies", a junk-food junkie tech-wizard hacker who is as crazy as 3 blind mice ),

Inhabiting Goof-Ball Environs (high-tech monitoring bodies buried within screen-infested monuments), and an Off-the-Wall Mystery, Possibly Espionage, Mucking it All-Up, and Medical-Profession Madness that May Be Conducting Fringe, Illegal Experiments on the Living and the Dead.

It's just Another Cronenberg Buffet of Severed Limbs, Body-Horror-Obsession, and More Clownish Creations than a Slimy-Side-Show.

All Done Appropriately "Dead-Pan".

Nothing in this Bizarre Display of Cinematic Entertainment is Predictable, Pedestrian, or Plain.

It's a Movie for Maniacal Fans and Far-Out-Their Thinkers.

Dream-Like Fantasies Fraught with WTF Ideas Formulated in a Film-Format Fit For the Edge of Movie-Making.

Made for Someone, who Knows who, and that's the "Charm".

For Fans of the Avant-Garde and Out-of-the-Box-Art...

It's a Must-See...

Others Prone to the "Every-Day"...

Not So Much.

Cronenberg's return to the screen. The film contains strong elements, and the director still employs body horror with a characteristic sense of precision. The use of bodies, mutilation, and a sickly obsession with the dead causes intense discomfort in the viewer, and this is accompanied by reflections on parasocial relationships shaped by technology.

These themes, namely grief and obsession, form the foundation upon which most of the film unfolds. As it progresses, a paranoid tone begins to surface, and reality gradually dissolves into a blur of dream, psychosis, and mystery.

Adding to this effect is the constant use of outdated, visibly artificial visual effects. I cannot say whether this is intentional, but it lends the film a certain falseness, which reverses the usual flow of suspense. Instead of clarity, each moment deepens the enigma, producing a spiraling escalation of disorientation that leads toward its conclusion.

The film's main problem is that Cronenberg seemed to have an idea of what he wanted to address, but showed little interest in developing it. The film holds considerable potential, yet explores absolutely nothing. It generates mystery upon mystery, combines them in a dreamlike manner, and seems to build momentum only to reach the edge of a cliff and leap.

Nothing is resolved. The questions it raises never evolve, they begin with force, giving the impression that they will grow into major points of reflection, but they go nowhere. In the end, Cronenberg takes complex questions, invites the viewer to a grand intellectual congress, and when one arrives, he simply says "Technology is changing how we relate to each other", and leaves, as if that alone constituted a profound revelation.

The film becomes lost in its desire to captivate the viewer through a multitude of enigmas, all of them hollow.

It disguises banalities in tones of epiphany.

I loved the concept of this film and was very excited to finally see it. But from the start, Cassel's performance was dry, unbelievable, and I felt he was over acting. I kept waiting for the film to get interesting, but instead took some bizarre turns that left more questions than answers. The film was labeled a thriller and horror, but the film is neither of these. I was not drawn into the plot, could not connect with any of the one dimensional acting or characters, and the ending was anti-climatic. Two hours of less than mediocre acting and story left me disheartened, and wishing I did not invest that time in watching it. A strong pass.

Even as David Cronenberg films go, The Shrouds is peculiar, and has been met with more affronted reactions than possibly any film he's made during his distinct, half-a-century-long career.

Created as Cronenberg himself was processing the death of his wife, it involves a piece of tech that lets mourners view a "live" AI rendition of their deceased loved ones' rotting corpses (the film explores loss in terms of losing not only the soul, but also the body of someone you love), created by a widowed millionaire who is supposedly meant to be an avatar of Cronenberg (played by Vincent Cassel because, hey, wouldn't you also cast yourself with one of the sexiest actors of French cinema if you could?) and who goes on to pursue a sexual relationship with his dead wife's twin sister (Diane Kruger plays both roles).

Such irksome images and concepts aren't unexpected in a David Cronenberg film (as usual, it goes deeper than many films that pretend they're aping him; many simply stop at shallow body-horror squick), but many of the reviews ask some variety of this question: What does it say about Cronenberg that he, ostensibly, chose to express his OWN grief about his OWN wife in this manner?

This may be why many other reviews view this film as a sordid Big Tech commercial, the idea being that we, on some level, are supposed to yearn for such a technology as this. And that wouldn't be a hard sell in the age of AI resurrections (see, for example, the Parkland shooter victim who was digitally reanimated by his parents and programmed to tell us how to vote). I am not convinced that Cronenberg meant to say that, but the Tesla product placements certainly make it a feasible reading. Will Musk get ideas?

People who call this boring, I don't understand. (I was more bored by 2022's Crimes of the Future, whose admittedly fascinating themes weren't done any favors by its mumbly cast.) The Shrouds is talky and sometimes quiet, yes, but I'm betting you will get something out of these performances -- especially if you indeed find them as downright Wiseau-ian as the absolute harshest critics. For me, the heavy lifting was done by the score, an electronic ambient soundtrack by Howard Shore (how unexpected) that kept me hypnotized even during the most boringly shot and colorless scenes -- which, I'm sure, look that way For A Reason. It gets messier, yet also funnier, as it progresses.

Take all of this for what it's worth, I say. See it, and then decide if this is Cronenberg's Killers of the Flower Moon or his Megalopolis -- and if that is a bad thing.

I've never seen a movie take such a dive in quality from a strong opening. It starts strong with great acting and an interesting premise, then at a certain point it seems like the actors just did whatever. Did they only rehearse the first half of the movie? Was there a full script when shooting began? Things just sort of happen, including the ending. The movie just... ends. What did we accomplish? The reason I'm rating it two stars instead of one is almost entirely because of Vincent Cassel's incredibly hilarious performance. Me and my pal laughed very hard at several of his line deliveries, so at least the viewing wasn't a snoozefest. It sure was close though.

Last note: in this movie, David Cronenberg basically parodies a moment from his 1996 film "Crash", and it's about as disappointing to see as Lars Von Trier ripping off the beginning of Antichrist (2009) in Nymphomaniac (2013)z.