In 1954 Luis Buñuel completed Abysses of passion, his fascinating adaptation of Wuthering Heights, with the protagonist sneaking into a cemetery and breaking into the family vault to reach the coffin where his beloved rests and embrace her corpse. The Spanish director condensed the impulse oflove was that runs through Emily Brontë's novel, and which excited the surrealists. In his last film, David Cronenberg It starts with a similar idea transferred to one of his hyper-technological universes. After the death of his beloved wife Becca, the protagonist, Karsh (a Vincent Cassel who is eerily reminiscent of Cronenberg himself), has devised a device that allows him to contemplate her corpse and its decomposition at all times. A way of crystallizing the ideal of love beyond death, which he successfully markets in his own cemetery. And another snail's return to the Canadian filmmaker's erotic and voyeuristic obsession with the organic nature of bodies, over which the memory of his wife, Carolyn Zeifman, who died in 2017, unfortunately looms. The director, on the one hand, expands Karsh's passion for his wife to the bond he maintains with Becca's sister, Terry (Diane Kruger), in a disturbing relationship marked by the shadow of Vertigo Alfred Hitchcock's. On the other hand, it entangles the protagonist in an international intrigue typical of one of high-tech thriller which unnecessarily complicates the film without providing the necessary argumentative tension. The shrouds It remains as a powerful but ill-fated reflection on grief and the erotic ghosts it evokes, by the always recommendable David Cronenberg.