‘The Shrouds' review: David Cronenberg mixes eroticism, body horror in his wildest film yet

San Francisco Chronicle​

22-04-2025

It's one thing to be a little bit nuts, but to be a little bit nuts in the exact same way for 50 years — that's worthy of respect.
At this point, it's clear that David Cronenberg has not been trying to gross us out purely for effect. He has been coming from a real place inside, and that place has never seemed more honest and raw than in 'The Shrouds,' his best film since 2007's ' Eastern Promises.'
It's the story of a businessman, Karsh, who is grieving the death of his wife to such a degree that he wishes he could crawl into the grave with her. Instead he invents a new kind of cemetery, in which bodies are buried with multiple cameras all around them, so that loved ones can monitor the deceased's decomposition.
Cronenberg's wife died in 2017, and he has said that this film comes indirectly out of that harrowing, anguished experience. As if to emphasize the personal connection between the lead character and the director, Vincent Cassel as Karsh wears his hair in the distinctive Cronenberg style: white, combed straight back and shaped like a parabola.
There are scenes of decomposition here that are genuinely disgusting and disturbing. (I did mention this is a Cronenberg movie, right?) But what is surprising is that the movie has an erotic component, as well.
When his wife (Diane Kruger) was alive, Karsh was obsessed with her body. It was the locus and meaning of his life. Now in death, while she appears to him in dreams and flashbacks, he has his wife's lookalike sister (also played by Kruger) and there's definitely an erotic element to their interactions.
But Cronenberg is not so creepy as to suggest that Karsh is attracted to his wife's corpse. Rather, there's the suggestion that this man's love for his wife and his obsession with her as a physical entity preclude the possibility of him ever being grossed out by her — even in a decomposed state.
For Kruger, 'The Shrouds' is quite a showcase, in that she plays two sisters with very different styles and personalities. Both roles are extremely frank in terms of nudity and sexuality, and yet one can see why Kruger thought the movie worthy of such intense investment. There's nothing salacious about it. In its own deeply weird and appalling way, it's a film about something beautiful. This is Cronenberg's version of ultimate romance, of eternal love.
And yet, I've revealed very little about the story here. It's hard to make much sense of it, anyway. There's something to do with computer hacks, and a plot by the Chinese and the Russians.
Originally conceived as a series for Netflix, 'The Shrouds' might have thrived in that format had the streaming giant taken him up on it. Instead, what we get in this film is what would have been the first episode — and it feels like it. It's the worst thing that can be said for 'The Shrouds,' which ends on a diminuendo and with very little resolved. That's what keeps it from being the great film it might have been.
But still, it's an absolutely original vision. It's a wail of grief, an expression of love, a testament to the body. Cronenberg puts it all on the line here, and he gets his actors to put it all on the line with him. If you don't feel its visceral charge, you're not paying attention.