‘What we have here is a dreamer. Someone completely out of touch with reality…’
If there was a decade that I have completed, it’s the ’90s. When times are tough, I love to retreat to the era that formed this terrible man you see before you as a comfort blanket against the slings and arrows of everyday life. As a consequence of this, there is little of note out there that I haven’t already clung to like a man perpetually caught in a storm. The Virgin Suicides is one such film. It was worth the wait…
Once upon a time, there lived five mysterious sisters in suburban Detroit. These sisters built a metaphorical wall around themselves that fascinated a group of boys who follow their every move. This fascination becomes an obsession until the mysterious sisters and the naive boys collide in an explosion of tragedy.
The reason I’ve employed that annoying framing device to describe the plot is that Sofia Coppola’s debut feature is presented as a modern day fairytale. A suburban fairytale. The kind of story you might hear round a campfire with claims that this actually happened in the next town over. The whole thing has an ethereal quality, enhanced by an enchanting score (supplied by French noisemakers Air), that sees an otherwise ordinary town turned into something that feels like a mix between Twin Peaks and Edward Scissorhands.
The acting obviously helps. Kirsten Dunst is arguably the most underrated actress of her generation (watch On Becoming a God in Central Florida if you don’t believe me), and she is the stand out performer here, but James Woods and particularly Kathleen Turner also excel as stern but loving parents, and it is always a pleasure to see Danny DeVito popping up in anything. Less successful is Josh Hartnett sporting an absolutely ludicrous haircut, but overall, The Virgin Suicides has aged pretty damn well and that is a testament to Coppola and her cast.
For some reason, I feel like this film has developed a reputation for being a little hysterical, a little over-the-top, maybe even a little aggressively downbeat, I didn’t see that at all. A cult classic that deserves to be described as such.