In movies like Pet Sematary or even Adam Wingard’s Blair Witch, the monster is grief. It’s the (rather human) unwillingness to move on and let go that results in a rapid, downward spiral that inadvertently gets everyone killed in the process. In David Cronenberg’s The Shrouds, however, grief isn’t so much a monster as it is a sickness you can’t defeat. It doesn’t matter what tools, physical or emotional, you come equipped with: dead is dead. And as bleak as that sounds, the two-hour horror-drama is more of a beautiful reality check – and a reminder that we’ll be okay, as long as we don’t fight it.
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