THE VIRGIN SUICIDES A film review by David N. Butterworth Copyright 2000 David N. Butterworth
***1/2 (out of ****)
When Sofia Coppola landed the key role as Mary Corleone in the final chapter of her father Francis Ford Coppola's legendary "Godfather" trilogy, the cries of nepotism could be heard as far away as the Hollywood Hills. Overt familial favoritism notwithstanding, the greater outcry was that Sofia simply wasn't good enough and for many, single-handedly ruined the picture.
In the ten years since "The Godfather: Part III," the 29-year-old actress has had few film roles--she's appeared as Cindy in "Inside Monkey Zetterland," as herself in Dad's documentary "Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocalypse," and as Saché in last year's "Star Wars" prequel to name the sum-total. In short, she's done very little and failed to make much of an impression.
But with "The Virgin Suicides," all that is about to change.
Switching to behind the camera as both writer and director, Coppola might well have found her niche. Skeptics will be quick to question just how much of the finished product is Sofia's handiwork, given her bloodline and insider connections, but the film plays very much *unlike* a Francis Ford Coppola movie and in some ways that's a finer compliment than calling her a chip off the old block.
"The Virgin Suicides" is a deliberately-paced (or "slow" if you're predisposed to cynicism) gothic fantasy about the ill-fated Lisbon sisters--Cecilia, Bonnie, Lux, Mary, and Therese--told from the vantage of the neighborhood boys who worshipped them from afar. It's a fragile and delicate affair, as fragile and delicate as the teenage female condition it examines. The film shimmers, breathes, and moves both on air and with Air, since it's scored by the French avant-pop duo with a sparing insistence.
The film is all the better for posing more questions than answers, since its theme--the universal dilemma of young women struggling with their blossoming sexuality--is not easily concluded. The five young actresses, among them Kirsten Dunst as the bold Lux, are fabulous, as are veterans James Woods and a surrealistically frumpy-looking Kathleen Turner as their parents. Woods, especially, is remarkable since he rarely plays soft and his Mr. Lisbon is a treasure of paternal quirks and insecurities.
Behind the lens, Coppola's direction is sure-footed, her pacing perfect. And the power, wit, and calculated efficacy of her insightful screenplay (based on the novel by Jeffrey Eugenides) can best be summed up by a single line of dialogue. Shortly after her first failed suicide attempt, the youngest Lisbon daughter tells a male caregiver who falsely assumes that everything is OK now "obviously, doctor, you've never been a 13-year-old girl."
Watching the splendid "The Virgin Suicides," it's quite obvious that Sofia Coppola has.
-- David N. Butterworth dnb@dca.net
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