'The Shrouds': A Macabre Dance with Grief and TechnologY
- By Brian Robau
- Apr 22
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 1

David Cronenberg's latest cinematic offering, THE SHROUDS, opens with a stark, unsettling image: a decaying body within an underground cavern. The camera moves to a man observing from above, then plunges into his gaping, screaming mouth. This visceral sequence immediately encapsulates the film's central theme: a grief so profoundly bizarre and disorienting it mirrors the chaotic nature of the digital realm.
Echoing the director's signature blend of the corporeal and the psychological, reminiscent of CRASH and CRIMES OF THE FUTURE, THE SHROUDS delves into more than just burial grounds; it plunges into the murky depths of online conspiracy. The narrative centers on Karsh (Vincent Cassel), a self-absorbed entrepreneur consumed by the recent death of his wife, Becca (Diane Kruger). In his obsessive mourning, Karsh has poured immense resources into his invention: "the shroud." Named, ironically, after the Shroud of Turin (which Karsh dismisses), this innovative mantle emits radiation, allowing the real-time tracking of a body's decomposition. This invention is Karsh's way of honoring his Jewish wife's belief in the intertwining of body and soul. For this purpose, an exclusive cemetery, 'GraveTech,' has been established, complete with a restaurant and bar adorned with the very cloaks that resemble high-tech, grim-reaper figures.
However, Karsh soon discovers the unpredictable nature of the technological domain. When GraveTech is vandalized—a disturbing echo of real-life antisemitic defacements of Jewish cemeteries—and subsequently hacked, Karsh finds himself entangled in the shadowy world of the dark web. A client hints at a convoluted plot to hijack the burial grounds for a communications network, implicating various groups: Russians, an Icelandic eco-activist group, Becca's dubious cancer doctor, or even GraveTech's Chinese investors. Adding to the escalating dread, the decaying bodies within GraveTech begin to exhibit mysterious, tumor-like lumps, suggesting either side effects of the shroud's radiation or malicious digital manipulation. Meanwhile, Karsh's AI assistant, eerily designed to resemble his deceased wife, begins to act autonomously. As Karsh enters a romance with Becca's uncanny doppelganger-like sister (also played by Kruger), the conspiracy theories take on an erotic dimension.
Given Cronenberg's own recent experience with grief following his wife's death from cancer, and reports of Cassel adopting Cronenberg's distinct Toronto accent, THE SHROUDS can be seen as a darkly satirical self-portrait. It depicts a man navigating profound personal loss while simultaneously bewildered by both the internet and the process of grieving itself. Unlike recent horror films that explore grief, such as BRING HER BACK, SMILE, or HEREDITARY, THE SHROUDS avoids conventional horror tropes. Instead, it strikes a uniquely pensive, otherworldly, and decidedly odd tone, distinguishing itself even within Cronenberg's diverse filmography.
Ultimately, THE SHROUDS functions as a techno-conspiracy thriller that deliberately equates the perplexing, post-truth landscape of the internet with the inherent senselessness of death. It's a film designed to be "illegible," reflecting the bewildering nature of its themes. Yet, it steadfastly continues Cronenberg's career-long exploration of how intimacy is transformed, and often distorted, when intertwined with rapidly advancing technology. The dubious and uncontrollable forms of technology provide a constant, high-voltage current throughout this meditation on sorrow. However, for a thriller, the stakes feel oddly subdued. Recurring elements, such as Karsh's dentist's aphorism—"grief is rotting your teeth"—and the shrouds themselves, serve as constant reminders of the body's inexorable decay. The film's central figures are either anticipating death or are already buried. In the end, GraveTech, despite its promise of connecting us to the departed, becomes a potent symbol of a futile yearning for intimacy that can never truly be satisfied.



