"The Shrouds" Film Review - Fremantle Shipping News

Stephen Fry swears he’ll never write a negative review ever again as it’s too self-serving, and I say bah humbug. It’s cathartic. Off I go!

If you are to march yourself over to Luna Cinemas to watch this new filmatic edition of Cronenberg body horror, having decided you’re already a fan of past body horrors including Videodrome and Crimes of the Future or you’re new to the Canadian director’s work, I have some recommendations. Go in with an empty stomach. Watch it in stormy weather like we’ve had lately in Perth, and even better pair it with a playthrough or at least knowledge of infamous and newly remastered videogame Silent Hill 2 which grapples with the very similar themes of a sexually frustrated widower in a far more considered way. Yes, I am comparing videogames to a so called art film. We’re setting the bar low.

Also, it’s better to enjoy such films with an audience. I don’t recall the last time so many people laughed in unison at a film that is definitely not a comedy. It has its moments, sculpted carefully to make the jaw drop with incredulous guffaws, but it’s meant to be taken seriously so I knew it missed the mark in that room. The volume of walkouts with no return was another hint.

David Cronenberg’s personal, cynical feature stars Diane Kruger, Vince Cassel, and Guy Pearce, as well as excellent actor Elizabeth Saunders from terrifying tv series From who brings a firm, reassuring, resolute presence to the screen. It narrowly compensates for the relentless egomania leaking from Cassel’s performance as Karsch, which even a troublesome AI digital avatar outperformed.

In The Shrouds, the barrier between life and death has been prised open a smidge. The bereaved are offered, at no small expense, the opportunity to watch the “next stages” of their loved ones in their journey six feet under courtesy of GraveTech. From a small screen in the tombstones with a fibre optic connection to the mesh burial shroud, or from the comfort of your own smartphone for heck’s sake, you can keep an eye on them in painstaking detail. It is exactly what it sounds like.

Cronenberg’s well of unique ideas shows no danger of drying up, including unique settings for a first date: a restaurant you own overlooking a graveyard you own. So you can bring your newly extinguished flame to admire the decaying 8K resolution livestream of your decomposing wife, ahhhh (pun bloody intended, shush).

The ethical implications of this puportedly secular practice are challenged throughout the film, as is Cassel in his search for the perpetrators guilty of desecrating his local GraveTech grounds and severing the link to his own wife.

Cassel’s fixation on his wife purely as a physical being, in life and death, is unsettling. He seems blissfully determined not to realise that even where it stymies his ability to move on. It’s a central theme on the relationships in this moody, quasi-dystopian setting. Including a seedy, obsessive performance portrayed creepily by Guy Pearce. Their coping mechanisms show a distinct lack of self awareness and growth.

Take Cassel’s regular vivid dreams and flashbacks of Kruger.

Women are mere bodies, again. One sister indistinguishable from another. We know precious little about Vincent Cassel’s departed spouse but her naked form is seared into our memory by the end of the film. Hark, more incredulous laughter from the audience as her dead ringer (sorry) sister fills more of the frame without blushing.

As if her hair and skin could possibly look that immaculate so late in those stages of illness. Get real. Most women would give a limb to be in such great shape. Oh pardon, another gaff. And there goes our favourite boob. Putting ourselves out of joint to please our partners. There goes the hip, crack! She barely seems to register it, only apologising for ruining the moment and assures him that the doctors won’t be far away, of course it’s still fine to spoon. The main character doesn’t dedicate a second to reflect on what death meant for her. Only him. And his ideals of ownership of another’s body, thrown laughably in his face.

Where is the genuine self reflection? I was still searching for it by the time his plane to Budapest departed and the credits rolled.

Bizarre conspiracy theories and their hold on vulnerable people, themes of detachment versus possessiveness threadbare ties to environmentalism, racial prejudice, and a lacklustre poke at the influence of AI in our lives struggle to add substance to the film.

Awkward, wooden, unconvincing lines buried my opinion of Cronenberg’s latest even deeper.

It’s intriguing but it will test even the most loyal of Cronenberg fans.

4 out of 10 stars

I’m off to go play more Silent Hill. Symbollic body horror, immersive chilling soundtracks, skillful depictions of grief, and genuine growth through confrontation? Now we’re talking. Video games are a fantastic medium for deep storytelling. Cronenberg originally envisaged this film as a tv series but a game might have given him a better platform to explore the concept in depth. We’ll likely never know for sure.

By Gayle O’Leary. If you’d like to catch up on more by Gayle here on Fremantle Shipping News, look right here!

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