07/07/25

Filmhouse, Edinburgh

I first saw a David Cronenberg film way back in 1975. His low budget debut, Shivers, announced the arrival of a precocious new cinematic talent and, over the decades, the Canadian auteur has pretty much invented and shaped the concept of body horror. Films like The Brood, Videodrome and Scanners felt like one powerful punch after another – and I was always first in the queue to see them.

But somewhere down the years, I lost touch with the man’s work. Checking back through my reviews, I’m surprised to see that the last film of his I saw in the cinema was Maps to the Stars, and that I noted in the review that it was ‘not one of his best efforts.’ The recent re-opening of Filmhouse, after years of shuttered doors, seems the perfect opportunity to view The Shrouds, and it’s lovely to recline in one of the venue’s extra-comfortable seats and watch the film in razor-sharp definition on the big screen.

But if I am hoping to rekindle my old passion for Cronenberg’s work, I am somewhat disappointed.

We first meet Karsh Relikh (Vincent Cassel) on a blind date with Myrna Shovlin (Jennifer Dale). He’s taken her to a posh restaurant to eat and, as they dine, he casually announces that he owns the place and, what’s more, he also owns the adjoining graveyard. He goes on to explain that he is the inventor of the titular shrouds, burial robes that contain hundreds of tiny cameras. With the aid of a screen on the gravestone – and a handy phone app – the bereaved can watch the gradual disintegration of the deceased. His company, Gravetech is establishing other souped-up burial sites across the globe.

Karsh suggests that perhaps Myrna would like to pop out after they’ve finished eating and have a look at Becca, Karsh’s recently deceased wife, to get an overview of her gradual disintegration? Strangely enough, Myrna isn’t keen on the idea. (Spoiler: there’s no second date.)

As the film continues, we learn that Becca has gradually succumbed to cancer and that her doctor had to remove one of her arms and a breast before she finally died. Karsh tells this to Becca’s twin sister, Terri (Diane Kruger), whose reaction to the news is… well, let’s just say it’s not what you might expect. Karsh also begins to develop a relationship with Soo-Min (Sandrine Holt), a blind woman, who seems to know more about him than she really should and is determined to get him into bed.

A slow-paced meditation on death and grief, it’s no great surprise to learn that the story has been inspired by the real-life demise of Cronenberg’s wife; and viewers can hardly fail to notice that tall, skinny Cassell with his snow white hair and perfectly-tailored suits is a dead ringer (no pun intended) for the director himself. Cronenberg has acted in quite a few films but seems to have drawn the line here, sensing perhaps that he’s already uncomfortably close to the material.

Both Cassel and Kruger give this their all but, apart from some decidedly dark humour, the funereal pace of proceedings and the general unpleasantness of the storyline serve to work against it. And yes, I appreciate it’s a bit rich complaining about unpleasantness in a David Cronenberg movie, but I find myself longing for a bit of the old-school shock-horror that used to be his trademark. If there’s a major issue here, it’s that everything is too polite, too considered, too… tasteful?

There’s a lot of emphasis on dreams and a blurring of the lines between what might be nightmares and what’s actually happening, but at times I feel confused by what is (or isn’t) real. Most damning of all in my eyes is the fact that the film’s ending leaves everything muddled. I’m genuinely surprised when the closing credits come up.

I take no pleasure in giving this film such a critical mauling. As I’ve already said, Cronenberg has given me tons of grisly entertainment over the decades, while recent films like The Substance show that his influence is still out there. But sadly, The Shrouds leaves me as cold as a Gravetech corpse.

2.8 stars

Philip Caveney