By Jonathan Monovich.
Conspiracies brew throughout the film and their legitimacy, though probable, becomes increasingly unbelievable, mirroring the mind’s desperation for answers….”
In Dead Ringers (1988), the troubled Dr. Beverly Mantle (Jeremy Irons) says that “pain creates character distortion.” This quote encapsulates the essence of David Cronenberg’s oeuvre. Cronenberg has long been fascinated with the human body and the agony that comes with its physical mutations. Less acknowledged, but equally as central to Cronenberg’s films, is the recurring examination of internalized pain and the mental/emotional consequences of it. The Shrouds (2024), Cronenberg’s latest, continues to combine the Canadian auteur’s thematic preoccupations. In The Shrouds, Cronenberg keenly recognizes that the mind wanders, questions, and, for relief, attempts to rationalize what it does not know. Structured like an act of meditation, The Shrouds’ protagonist, Karsh (Vincent Cassel), navigates the distractions of his mind whilst struggling to remain calm, coolheaded, and free of suspicion. Karsh’s neuroses are fueled by the recent death of his wife, Becca (Diane Kruger), and the many unanswered questions surrounding her unorthodox cancer treatment. Like most entries of Cronenberg’s post-90s filmography, The Shrouds is relatively toned down in comparison to his more audacious earlier works. There are obvious parallels between The Shrouds and Cronenberg’s personal life as a widower, following the tragic passing of his wife from a similar cancer diagnosis. Whereas Cronenberg’s The Brood (1979), dealt with the recent loss of a wife from divorce via a cathartic approach to horror, The Shrouds chooses a more tame outlook for personal expression through artistic means. The honesty of Karsh’s grief comes from Cronenberg’s source material and the sincerity of his writing. Given the sensitive subject matter, The Shrouds’ tone is rather solemn. Yet, The Shrouds also unexpectedly serves as one of Cronenberg’s funniest films. Subtle humor occurs, amidst the film’s chaos, in the vein of Cronenberg’s satiric Hollywood story—Maps to the Stars (2014).
A jarring scream, followed by an extreme close up of Karsh’s mouth, opens The Shrouds before cleverly transitioning to a dental exam. Karsh’s dentist explains that teeth “register emotion,” and the bone density of Karsh’s have been reduced from the intense stress of his wife’s passing. Shortly after, Karsh is offered jpgs of his wife’s x-rays for solace. The interaction, unusual and almost absurd, sets the stage for The Shrouds. Per usual, Cronenberg fixates on humanity’s relationship with the duality of science and technology. Well-intentioned, though also undeniably self-serving, Karsh develops the “shroud cam,” a burial gown, that when paired with his GraveTech app, integrated with the tombstones’ computer screens, will enable the bereaved to bear witness to the bodies of their deceased loved ones. The motive stems from Karsh’s inability to let go. With the loss of Becca, Karsh feels lost and speaks of drowning from a “fluid of grief.” Karsh views his inventions as a coping mechanism, but the shrouds also begin to cloak Karsh’s reason and become a catalyst for paranoia. Cronenberg profoundly understands that grief takes a toll on the body, yet Karsh continues to search for answers. While his Jewish wife believed of an afterlife, whys and hows plague Karsh’s mind as he searches for meaning as an atheist. When Becca’s sister, Terry (also played by Kruger), insinuates that Becca was a “lab rat” for Dr. Eckler’s (Steve Switzman) experimental cancer treatment, Karsh becomes increasingly intrigued. The prospect brings meaning into Karsh’s life, fuels one of the film’s many conspiracy theories, and recalls Cronenberg’s Scanners’ (1981) exploration of exploitative healthcare. The other conspiracies arrive when the tombstones of Karsh’s cemetery are vandalized and his network hacked. Karsh leans to his IT expert, Maury (Guy Pearce), to help uncover the mystery and his artificial intelligence assistant, Hunny, for comfort, yet the unknowns accentuate his growing suspicions.
Whereas Cronenberg’s The Brood (1979), dealt with loss via a cathartic approach to horror, The Shrouds chooses a more tame outlook for personal expression….”
In Crash (1996), Cronenberg analogously explores how the human body and mind interacts with and is reshaped by technology. This curiosity of the relationship between human and technological evolution extends to many of Cronenberg’s films including Videodrome (1983), The Fly (1986), eXistenZ (1999), and Crimes of the Future (2022). In The Shrouds, Cronenberg continues to question technology’s role in our future as a species. Karsh’s creations, though somewhat morbid, help bridge the gap between the living and the dead. Simultaneously, they provide an outlet for unwanted surveillance like many technological innovations. Cronenberg’s films have always been acutely aware of technology’s possibilities for advancement and potential for disaster. The Shrouds continues this acknowledgment and the film subsumes complex ideas. The presentation of the material makes it a stand out entry of Cronenberg’s catalogue. Effect/prosthetic light and dialogue heavy, aesthetically, The Shrouds stacks more closely to Cronenberg’s Spider (2002), A History of Violence (2005), and A Dangerous Method (2011). The Shrouds embraces a further sense of minimalism even deliberately making Karsh’s house Japanese-themed. The interior design signals Karsh’s efforts to embrace a Zen-like way of life, though the forementioned externalities and his own internal struggles prevent it. Apart from his own reservations, Maury amplifies The Shrouds’ theme of distrust and Pearce’s paranoid performance brings out much of the film’s unexpected comic relief.
Like Cronenberg’s M. Butterfly (1993), The Shrouds functions as an unconventional love story. Flashbacks of Becca’s treatment reveal an increasingly dismembered body with more and more body parts removed; the visual holds a slight resemblance to Sherilyn Fenn in the overlooked Boxing Helena (1993). Attempting to advance his life and move forward, Karsh also engages in several relationships. These include Myrna (Jennifer Dale), Soo-Min (Sandrine Holt), and Terry, though Becca remains on Karsh’s mind. The Shrouds’ characters are sparing with their expression, and Douglas Koch’s cinematography is intentionally paired down with little camera movement to tonally match the film’s ambience. Conspiracies brew throughout the film and their legitimacy, though probable, becomes increasingly unbelievable, mirroring the mind’s desperation for answers to ease the unknown. The ambient, yet foreboding, score of longtime Cronenberg collaborator, Howard Shore, furthers this sentiment.
Like Eric Packer (Robert Pattinson) in Cosmopolis (2012), Karsh attempts to use his power as a means to attain an ultimately unobtainable perfection. The human body is imperfect, and as Cronenberg messages in Crimes of the Future,the “body is reality.” An inability to recognize this is a an existence that is doomed. Cronenberg’s Shivers (1975) and Rabid (1977)are just some of his many other films that ponder the exaggerated dire consequences that result from an overconfidence in artificiality. This belief was recently shared by Coralie Fargeat in her heavily Cronenberg-inspired film The Substance (2024). Ultimately, Karsh acknowledges the reality of the body, but understandably, he has difficulty accepting it has taken away the love of his life. At its core, The Shrouds is a gratifying culmination of the innerworkings of a true artist and a thought-provoking man’s beliefs. Especially at this age and at this point in an already well-respected career, The Shrouds is an excellent film from one of the most consistently ambitious and prolific filmmakers.
The Shrouds is now exclusively in theaters via Janus Films/Sideshow.
Jonathan Monovich is a Chicago-based writer and a regular contributor for Film International. His writing has also been featured in Film Matters, Bright Lights Film Journal, and PopMatters.