Shivers (1975)
The trailer sold me a lie. A tight, claustrophobic sci-fi thriller, bodies turning against their owners, paranoia spreading floor by floor through a sealed apartment block. Something in the vein of The Crazies, maybe, or Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I sat down fully braced for that film. What I actually got was something else entirely, a feverish, unhinged, deliberately transgressive piece of work that sent me in a completely different direction to the one I'd expected. And honestly? I didn't enjoy it.
That's the honest answer. Shivers left me cold, which is probably not the reaction David Cronenberg was going for, given how aggressively warm and sweaty and visceral the whole thing is. But I think it's worth being upfront about that before anything else, because there's a version of this review where I dress up my discomfort as admiration, and that would be doing you a disservice.
Here's the thing though: I can hold two thoughts at once. I didn't enjoy it, and I also think it's genuinely fascinating that it exists at all. This is Cronenberg's debut feature, and he arrives fully formed in the worst possible way, which is also the best possible way. There's no easing in, no playing it safe, no attempt to make something palatable. He just throws the full chaos of his vision at the screen and dares you to look away. The parasites, the body horror, the apartment block as a petri dish for societal collapse, it's all there, raw and unpolished and absolutely committed to its own grotesque logic. The sheer audacity of it is something I can genuinely admire, even while I'm grimacing.
Because the film is a mess. The budget is practically visible through the seams of every frame, the special effects are rough in ways that don't always read as charming, and the narrative logic is, to put it generously, flexible. The performances, Paul Hampton and Lynn Lowry among them, range from detached to wooden, though whether that's a flaw or a deliberate stylistic choice I genuinely couldn't tell you. Either way, it adds to the sense that you're watching something slightly unmoored from reality, which perhaps suits the material more than I wanted it to.
What Cronenberg is doing here, beneath the sleaze and the exploitation and the dark satirical comedy, is essentially inventing body horror as a genre. Or at least staking the earliest credible claim to it. When you look at where he goes later in his career, with The Brood and beyond, you can see the seeds of a genuinely distinctive artistic identity being planted in very messy soil. The ideas about infection, desire, societal control and the body as something that can be hijacked and weaponised are all present here, even if they're delivered with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer wrapped in something I'd rather not describe.
I think Shivers gets wildly mixed reviews for exactly this reason. It splits audiences straight down the middle, and I suspect your reaction to it has a lot to do with how much you're willing to meet it on its own terms. Its fans worship it, and I get why. There's a cult energy to it, a real sense that you're watching something that shouldn't quite exist, something that slipped through every reasonable filter and made it to the screen anyway. If that appeals to you, you'll love it. I'm just not that person.
The premise wears out its welcome before the credits roll, and by the final act I was watching more out of obligation than investment. It's unpleasant in ways that feel less purposeful than provocative, and provocative for its own sake isn't really enough to carry a feature film. For me, at least.
Two stars. A slimy, stumbling, fiercely ambitious curiosity, and proof that even legends have to start somewhere. I respect what it is. I just won't be revisiting it.
Rating: ★★ | Year: 1975 | Watched: 2026-06-26
Where to watch
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