The Virgin Suicides
After finally having seen “The Virgin Suicides,” I wonder how I would have reacted to the Sofia Coppola films I’d already seen (“Lost in Translation,” “The Bling Ring” and “On the Rocks”) had I seen this one first. This is a remarkable directorial debut, fully formed in its vision, and precise in how it approaches its story. The films of hers I had seen felt a bit detached from the emotions they tried to convey, but watching her debut, I had that wrong- I’m very curious now to see how those land with me upon revisit, and as I go through the films of hers I’ve missed over the years.
At the end of her adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides’s novel, Coppola’s narrator (Giovanni Ribisi)- who’s been acting as our perspective on this story of the Lisbon sisters- tells us that the neighborhood boys who’ve been the audience surrogates for this story, still love the girls as adults, and are haunted by their deaths by suicide. I wonder if I would have gotten- had I seen this earlier in life- that Coppola sees right through her narrator’s words, and understands that their fascination is not about actual love at all, but the teenage boy idea of desire for unattainable girls; the stronger our desire to be around them, the more we felt like we “loved them.” These boys didn’t love the sisters, but they do recognize the sadness of their deaths, because they did have a front row seat to their oppression by their religiously-strict parents (as much as the sisters allowed them to have, at least), even if they didn’t understand their personal pains.
By telling the story of the Lisbon sisters in the way she does, Coppola never really reveals more than she wants to reveal about the emotions of the sisters. We feel their sense of isolation, but we rarely get insight into what they’re thinking, or feeling…at least in terms of verbal insight. This is a film where the visual language- laid out beautifully by Coppola and her cinematographer, Edward Lachman- expresses those emotions for the characters; the filters chosen, the lighting, the camera angles, they are our emotional roadmap. Though the film relies a lot on narration, and some moments of dialogue exist, this is a film that would have been absolutely at home in the silent era. The main focus in terms of the sisters is on Lux, played by Kirsten Dunst. She is the one that- when they go to school- catches the attention of jock Trip Fontaine (Josh Hartnett). He asks her to homecoming, and makes sure her sisters have dates, as well. The dance is a crucial moment in the film, not only as it allows the sisters time away from the parents (played by James Woods and Kathleen Turner), but it also sets into motion the final tragedy of the film when Trip and Lux disappear to have sex, and she doesn’t show up at home until after he’s left her alone. This part of the story is not fundamentally different from other teen movies we’ve seen, but it’s impact is amplified by the ways in which Coppola uses the camera, and a lack of dialogue, to enhance the emotions at play.
If there’s a through line in the Sofia Coppola films I’ve seen so far, it’s how viewing people from a distance can give us some insight into who they are, but ultimately, their choices will not be fully understood because of that space. “The Virgin Suicides” is a film that looks to tap into our feelings of being young, of looking in from the outside of lives, and of remembering moments where life didn’t seem to make sense, but our emotions remain vivid. In addition to the camera, Coppola uses music beautifully, whether it’s the songs from the era- the ’70s- she chose, or the unique, haunting score by Air. The apple really did not fall far from the tree with Sofia Coppola- she’s a filmmaker who understands what she wants her film to be, and has the awareness of craft to make it happen. This was a profound experience to have, and I’m glad I finally chose to take it in.
