Virgin Suicides, The (1999)

reviewed by
James Sanford


In the same way the muses inspired the artists of ancient Greece, the five Lisbon sisters haunt the dreams of the adolescent boys of Grosse Pointe in "The Virgin Suicides," director Sofia Coppola's lyrical, chilling adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides' novel about sexual repression and promiscuity in the 1970s. Like those muses, the Lisbons float out of reach of mere mortals and when they briefly descend to Earth, they leave broken hearts and poetry in their wake.

Coppola follows the book almost to the letter, using dialogue sparingly and letting a narration by Giovanni Ribisi carry her film to its tragic conclusion. But "Virgin Suicides" cloaks the story in layers of mystery and fantastic imagery, tantalizing its viewers as easily as the wise-beyond-her-years Lux (Kirsten Dunst) commands the attention of every young man who crosses her path. No detail is too minor to escape Coppola's attention: The thump of a needle hitting a record, the tickling of a clock and the drip from a leaking roof are just as important in setting the scene here as the Styx anthems, peasant skirts and shaggy haircuts. Instead of laughing at 1975, Coppola weaves a sensuous suburban myth that seduces you completely.

"Suicides" is a work of fiction, although, like Eugenides' prose, it's so believable you half-expect to find a "based on a true story" label in its credits. The Lisbons are a quietly dysfunctional family headed up by a do-nothing dad (an amazingly low-key and effective James Woods) and a religious-fanatic mom (Kathleen Turner) who is so obsessed with keeping her daughters hidden from the evils of society, she inadvertently smothers them. Lux, the middle child, is the only one who escapes her mother's grasp and when she does, she recklessly searches for some kind of acceptance from the outside world.

With a come-hither smile and relaxed body language, Dunst magically and vibrantly brings Lux to life. Watching this hopelessly confused girl give herself up first to a dopey jock named Trip (Josh Hartnett), then to a parade of anonymous lovers, results in the saddest and most heart-wrenching sex scenes since Jennifer Jason Leigh's similarly misguided character lost her virginity in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High."

Coppola's screenplay doesn't throw out the humor of the novel either. Far from the little sophisticates we've gotten used to seeing in teen comedies such as "Down To You" and "Drive Me Crazy," the characters here are just as awkward and fumbling as most high-schoolers. Since they can't express their feelings in their own words, the boys call the Lisbons up and play records over the phone for them. Songs such as Carole King's "So Far Away" and the Bee Gees' "Run To Me" take on enormous poignancy as they become the lifeline that keeps the girls anchored to the outside world.

Even Trip, perceived by all as a dreamy stud, is overwhelmed when confronted by the love-hungry Lux. It's easy to see why: Dunst, perhaps best-remembered as the eerily wise little blood-drinker in "Interview With the Vampire," is now outfitted with a combination of sex appeal and vulnerability reminiscent of what we saw when the then teen-aged Uma Thurman slithered through "Henry and June" and "Dangerous Liaisons." No wonder Mama Lisbon is so worried about keeping her at home.

The casting of former glamor girl Turner as the plump, pristine matriarch works exceptionally well. Behind her facade of anxiety you can glimpse the teasing siren she once was and see that somewhere along the way Mrs. Lisbon buried her past under heaps of shame and self-righteousness.

Her daughters refuse to go down that path, however, and instead find a way to remain forever young and free from their mother's influence. What's worse, Coppola asks, having children who don't always behave as we'd like them to, or not having children at all? James Sanford


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