The Virgin Suicides

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The Virgin Suicides

It is not important how the Lisbon sisters looked. What is important is

how the teenage boys in the neighborhood thought they looked.

There is a time in the adolescent season of every boy when a particular

girl seems to have materialized in his dreams, with backlighting from

heaven. Sofia Coppola's "The Virgin Suicides" is narrated by an adult who

speaks for "we"--for all the boys in a Michigan suburban neighborhood 25

years ago, who loved and lusted after the Lisbon girls. We know from the

title and the opening words that the girls killed themselves. Most of the

reviews have focused on the girls. They miss the other subject--the gawky,

insecure yearning of the boys.

The movie is as much about those guys, "we," as about the Lisbon girls.

About how Trip Fontaine (Josh Hartnett), the leader of the pack, loses his

baby fat and shoots up into a junior stud who is blindsided by sex and

beauty, and dazzled by Lux Lisbon (Kirsten Dunst), who of the perfect

Lisbon girls is the most perfect.

In every class there is one couple who has sex while the others are only

talking about it, and Trip and Lux make love on the night of the big

dance. But that is not the point. The point is that she wakes up the next

morning, alone, in the middle of the football field. And the point is that

Trip, as the adult narrator, remembers not only that "she was the still

point of the turning world then" and "most people never taste that kind of

love" but also, "I liked her a lot. But out there on the football field,

it was different."

Yes, it was. It was ...

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creatures? And then the reality of sex, too young, peels back the innocent

idealism and reveals its secret engine, which is animal and brutal,

lustful and contemptuous.

In a way, the Lisbon girls and the neighborhood boys never existed, except

in their own adolescent imaginations. They were imaginary creatures,

waiting for the dream to end through death or adulthood. "Cecilia was the

first to go," the narrator tells us right at the beginning. We see her

talking to a psychiatrist after she tries to slash her wrists. "You're not

even old enough to know how hard life gets," he tells her. "Obviously,

doctor," she says, "you've never been a 13-year-old girl." No, but his

profession and every adult life is to some degree a search for the

happiness she does not even know she has.

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