Any
effort to scratch under the surface of reality, especially the American
conception of the suburban reality neatly hidden away behind immaculate
lawns and nice houses, deserves applause. Virgin Suicides succeeds
as a contemplative metaphor; dream like and eerily detached. That is its
strength, but also its weakness, for it does not really tell a complete
story.
Sofia Coppola’s (director/writer) script seems
to branch out in all directions hoping to present a perspective from
every angle. As if to state that the film is merely a ponderance, and
not an answer, nor even a criticism of the illusion of American
lifestyle, the story gives a disjointed feeling by avoiding to make
anything certain, including the protagonist, or the antagonist. Though
the story is set in the 70’s, a time of greater repression, its
message is contemporary if not timeless.
The characters of the Lisbons, a conservative
family with five teenage daughters, and the neighborhood boys who
are obsessed with the Goddess-like visions of the Lisbon girls appear as
sketches rather than fully formed personalities. Even as sketches,
though, these characters have a mythological quality reaching deep into
the gaping crevice of the human condition. As Mr. & Mrs. Lisbon,
James Woods and Kathleen Turner embody the illuminating range of
tragedy, comedy, and absurdity.
The search for insights that might explain the
Lisbon girls’ suicides reveals a number of issues that could tear a
family apart. Emotional disconnection fed by religious repression and
rigid social conventions seem the obvious causes from our perspective as
viewers, but they are hard to recognize for people desperately holding
on to a sense of order, however misconstructed it may be.
Mr. Lisbon seems aware that his wife’s
insensitivity and forced propriety is destroying the family. Through his
passive helplessness, he refuses to change their course and erodes his
substance with a whimper, not a bang, as he fades into insane oblivion
of escape from the prison of family life.
With all of its poignancy, the film suffers from
apparent inconsistencies that might have arisen as a challenge of
adapting Jeffrey Eugenides’s novel. We cannot believe that a teenage
girl like Lux (Kirsten Dunst) who identifies with the rebellion and
passion of rock’n’roll idols, would let herself be cut away from her
freedom like a meek lamb. Lux’s sexual insatiability as she eventually
explodes into self-destructive revenge "fucking" especially
indicates that she would have probably erupted in rage before she’d
let her mother force her to burn her precious records. This is one of
the logic leaps we couldn’t get over.
The narrator in the form of a conglomeration of
the grown neighborhood boys looking back on the mystery of the Lisbon
suicides is another ill-devised element. The boys express their yearning
to know the girls, to help them out of their isolation, but the little
that they do doesn’t reach far beyond a mythical fantasy with
characters that aren’t real. The boys never get to know the Lisbon
clan, nor do we. This may be true to Coppola’s artistic or thematic
purpose, but it makes for a sense of disconnection that troubled us.
Although every character is in some way
responsible for the resulting tragedy, Mrs. Lisbon is the influence that
propels the girls into self-destruction. As much as this film is about
feminine tragedy, it is refreshing that the source of repression is not
the patriarch but the dominating matriarch. Mrs. Lisbon says that there
was never a lack of love in their house, yet she had been running the
family like a cool drill sergeant demanding efficiency and obedience
first and foremost. Not once does she try to make a genuine connection
of compassion or understanding with her husband or her daughters. Her
world is built upon rigid, almost obsessive, religious rules, which
cater to her tremendous fear of a scandal. Once her control of her world
begins to crumble after the first suicide, she tightens the grip yet
further. That is the only way she knows how to live, and it is what
dooms them all.
As the camera reveals the vivid contrast of
shadows and color in the polished suburban world, so we accept Virgin
Suicides as an exploration of the overwhelming shadows that deepen
in the seemingly idyllic lives. The Lisbon story serves to remind us of
how disconnected repression may erupt in self-destructive tragedy.
Official Website
The Virgin Suicides Official Website
is one of the best we have seen. It is saturated with a breezy, dreamy,
teen emotional tone, much like the bedroom of the Lisbon sisters in the
film. The site has e-mail questions and answers from Sofia
Coppola, interviews with key cast members, and is easy and quick to
navigate. With this film and website as exemplars, we believe Ms.
Coppola and her team have a bright future and wish her all the best.