Movie Review - The Virgin Suicides
The 1970s Michigan suburb of Sofia Coppola's directorial debut The Virgin Suicides is quiet, filled with wood-paneled station wagons, manicured shrubbery and the occasional creak of a bike tire as a youngster rides to his friend's house. This is the setting for Coppola's rendition of Jeffrey Eugenides' 1993 novel (also titled The Virgin Suicides), a film that attempts to decode the short lives of five sisters, lives that play out against a backdrop of 1970s rock music, nail polish, pink lipstick, crucifixes, cigarettes and Peach Schnapps. The story, told from the unabashedly male perspective of a now-grown neighbor of the Lisbon family, begins with a glowing image of 15-year-old Lux Lisbon, played by Kirsten Dunst, in a plaid bikini top and toying with a red popsicle in her mouth. For the narrator and his friends, the Lisbon girls are a mysterious cocktail of sex, love and adventure, a cocktail they take only sparing sips from before the film's end.
Across the street the struggle that is girlhood plays out in vivid fashion, the first scene allowing the viewer to walk in on wrenching image of 13-year-old Cecilia Lisbon floating in the bathtub, wrists cut and bleeding, blond hair drifting away. Cecilia survives the suicide attempt and when asked by her doctor how she could do such a thing when she's "not even old enough to know how hard life gets," Cecilia responds with a jab to the heart of every female: "Obviously, doctor, you've never been a 13-year-old girl."
The remainder of the girls' story is led by Kirsten Dunst's performance and slow sweeping shots of the Lisbon girls, huddled around each other to watch television or flip through magazines in hovels of 'girlieness,' lace curtains hanging and makeup scattered. They appear on the lawn occasionally, Lux sunning in a bathing suit and the youngest Cecilia placing her hand in the knothole of the oak tree in their yard. Following Cecilia's second successful suicide attempt and ensuing Lux's delinquency the girls' tragedy plays out within the confines of their home. Mrs. Lisbon, the devout Catholic mother played by Kathleen Turner, has the girls burn their rock records and keeps them out of school for weeks. Mr. Lisbon (James Woods) continues his life as the bumbling father attempting to reach out to priests and his family but finding more solace in discussing the aerodynamics of planes. All the while the girls attempt to live normal lives, playing records for the neighbor boys over the phone or, in Lux's case, escaping to the roof to smoke cigarettes and quick make-out sessions with unnamed boys.
It is Lux that confronts the reader with the complexity of girlhood, the grapple that is confronting your sexuality and exploring yourself. While the other Lisbon sisters do diverge from the strict moral code outlined by their mother, it is Lux that does so with full-flung force. Lux plays footsie with the young man her parents invite over for dinner and jumps at the chance to slip under the gym bleachers with heartthrob Trip Fontaine. But she also dreams about traveling the world with her sisters and listens to her Kiss and Aerosmith records. In following Lux and her sisters, Coppola's film taps into the notion of the purity princess that has been explored so in-depth in this class. Mrs. Lisbon deals with her daughters in direct relation to their sexuality. In response to Cecilia's suicide attempt she allows the girls to host a party to interact with boys. When the other four sisters go to the homecoming she makes dresses that reach the ankles and adds two inches to the bust. The girls are left to realize their worth only through their sexuality (one of the sister's smartly notes that their homecoming dates are "just going to raffle us off" when they choose who is taking who) and in response Mrs. Lisbon's grip becomes tighter. On the one hand you sympathize with Mrs. Lisbon's commitment to protect her children. On the other she promotes a vicious cycle that leads to the family's downfall.
One of the film's final scenes depicts a debutante ball with the theme of "asphyxiation," a theme prompted by a swamp smell that descends over the Michigan town during an especially hot summer. The guests mill around in tuxedos, lacy dresses and gas masks, green lighting and smoke encircling their arms fitted with drinks. One can feel the suffocation of girlhood as a father raises his glass to introduce his daughter to the world (as if she hasn't been living in it for much of her early teens). It's a stunning visual of the suffocation American girls endure when they are defined not as individuals but as objects of sexuality to be locked up or "raffled off."
Across the street the struggle that is girlhood plays out in vivid fashion, the first scene allowing the viewer to walk in on wrenching image of 13-year-old Cecilia Lisbon floating in the bathtub, wrists cut and bleeding, blond hair drifting away. Cecilia survives the suicide attempt and when asked by her doctor how she could do such a thing when she's "not even old enough to know how hard life gets," Cecilia responds with a jab to the heart of every female: "Obviously, doctor, you've never been a 13-year-old girl."
The remainder of the girls' story is led by Kirsten Dunst's performance and slow sweeping shots of the Lisbon girls, huddled around each other to watch television or flip through magazines in hovels of 'girlieness,' lace curtains hanging and makeup scattered. They appear on the lawn occasionally, Lux sunning in a bathing suit and the youngest Cecilia placing her hand in the knothole of the oak tree in their yard. Following Cecilia's second successful suicide attempt and ensuing Lux's delinquency the girls' tragedy plays out within the confines of their home. Mrs. Lisbon, the devout Catholic mother played by Kathleen Turner, has the girls burn their rock records and keeps them out of school for weeks. Mr. Lisbon (James Woods) continues his life as the bumbling father attempting to reach out to priests and his family but finding more solace in discussing the aerodynamics of planes. All the while the girls attempt to live normal lives, playing records for the neighbor boys over the phone or, in Lux's case, escaping to the roof to smoke cigarettes and quick make-out sessions with unnamed boys.
It is Lux that confronts the reader with the complexity of girlhood, the grapple that is confronting your sexuality and exploring yourself. While the other Lisbon sisters do diverge from the strict moral code outlined by their mother, it is Lux that does so with full-flung force. Lux plays footsie with the young man her parents invite over for dinner and jumps at the chance to slip under the gym bleachers with heartthrob Trip Fontaine. But she also dreams about traveling the world with her sisters and listens to her Kiss and Aerosmith records. In following Lux and her sisters, Coppola's film taps into the notion of the purity princess that has been explored so in-depth in this class. Mrs. Lisbon deals with her daughters in direct relation to their sexuality. In response to Cecilia's suicide attempt she allows the girls to host a party to interact with boys. When the other four sisters go to the homecoming she makes dresses that reach the ankles and adds two inches to the bust. The girls are left to realize their worth only through their sexuality (one of the sister's smartly notes that their homecoming dates are "just going to raffle us off" when they choose who is taking who) and in response Mrs. Lisbon's grip becomes tighter. On the one hand you sympathize with Mrs. Lisbon's commitment to protect her children. On the other she promotes a vicious cycle that leads to the family's downfall.
One of the film's final scenes depicts a debutante ball with the theme of "asphyxiation," a theme prompted by a swamp smell that descends over the Michigan town during an especially hot summer. The guests mill around in tuxedos, lacy dresses and gas masks, green lighting and smoke encircling their arms fitted with drinks. One can feel the suffocation of girlhood as a father raises his glass to introduce his daughter to the world (as if she hasn't been living in it for much of her early teens). It's a stunning visual of the suffocation American girls endure when they are defined not as individuals but as objects of sexuality to be locked up or "raffled off."
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