The Shrouds 4K 2024

David Cronenberg returns with an intimate and philosophical drama exploring themes of grief, memory, and technological intervention in the process of death. Vincent Cassel plays a grieving widower and businessman whose revolutionary technology allows clients (and himself) to watch the decomposition of their loved ones' bodies in special shrouds. This premise becomes the starting point for a meditative dive into the labyrinths of the human psyche confronted with loss in the age of digital voyeurism.

From the very first frames, ‘The Shrouds’ demonstrates its restraint: the visuals are minimalist, at times even ascetic, clearly indicating a modest budget. However, Cronenberg masterfully turns this limitation into a style – the cold precision of the images creates the necessary atmosphere of alienation, and the film does not feel like a TV project.

At the center of the story are the trio of Cassel, Kruger, and Pearce, and their dialogues. The film is built on conversations—long, dense, often delving into specific political or scientific topics that seem to lead nowhere in particular. This is clearly an intentional technique to create a sense of disorientation and loss of connection with reality in the viewer. Cassel's character, clearly acting as Cronenberg's avatar, is experiencing a heavy loss, and this fogginess and fragmentation of the world reflect his inner state.

The film does not offer clear answers or a linear narrative. Instead, it builds its structure on dialectical contradictions: treatment becomes murder, AI harms rather than helps, life and death are intertwined. Each plot element seems to mirror another, offering the viewer food for thought rather than a ready-made solution. This is not a story to be unraveled, but rather a poem about grief, full of understatement. Cronenberg does not explain—he invites us to feel and reflect together on this wounded state of loss. The space for interpretation is limitless.

Coffin is a film for those who are already familiar with Cronenberg's unique language and are ready for a slow, meditative immersion into a very personal and painful statement. Fans will appreciate the depth and delicacy with which the director touches on the themes of loss, memory, and technology. Newcomers looking for the director's more characteristic shock or physical horror would be better off turning to his more classic works such as Videodrome or The Brood, or to the more recent Crimes of the Future, which will give a more complete picture of other facets of his talent.

This is a quiet but profound film of reflection. Demanding, but powerful in its own way.