The Shrouds

The film shares with Crimes of the Future an alternately intrigued and critical fascination with the ways technology encroaches on humanity, and a paranoid interest in rooting out underlying conspiracies.

Like 2022’s superb Crimes of the Future, The Shrouds serves as a reminder that, at 81 years old, Cronenberg is still one of the world’s great filmmakers: bold, uncompromising, clever, and fearless.

With every passing moment of the often enthralling, occasionally tedious new film from David Cronenberg, it becomes more confounding, more perverted, and, ultimately, more accomplished.

It’s a deeply personal look at loss that finds plenty of time to get creepy but never loses sight of the fact that it’s a movie about grief.

A drolly fluid inspection of classic Cronenberg themes -- the deterioration of the flesh, the instability of the image, the paranoia-inducing incursions of technology into every aspect of life -- but imbued with a nakedly personal dimension.

Possibly the Toronto writer/director’s best film, showcasing his fascination with body horror, advanced technology and high paranoia in a way that also genuinely touches the heart.

The Shrouds is a two hour therapy session for one of cinema’s most important and iconic filmmakers. It is a film that lays bare Cronenberg’s weaknesses and strengths.

While many, especially die-hard Cronenberg fans, may find The Shrouds eerie and thought provoking, many others (myself included) will just find it odd, uneven and unsatisfying.

Grief is universal in that we all experience it at some point, but it’s also a personal, lonely experience because we all have a different relationship to whoever it is we are grieving.

There's plenty of humor in The Shrouds, but the grasping at the loss of a loved one and the hard act of letting go of the earthly, bodily attachment rings true.