A terrific and emotional review of The Virgin Suicides by the always-fantastic Kim Morgan.
These girls are characters one writes books about, but one never truly knows. And the not knowing is part of the tragedy (does anyone really want to know them? Or do they want to keep them? Or stare at them? Or, after a night of passion, leave them waking up alone and cold in a football field?). And then these are girls, who committed, really, in the plain light of day, an ugly act that turned their young, lilting beauty and promise of a full life into rotting corpses. Death. The urn your stepsister opens up after a game of Scrabble.
Wow, great post. I just bookmarked Kim Morgan.
And put the Stellan Skarsgard version of Insomnia in my netflix que.
The Virgin Suicides is one of those movies that I’ve always felt I should revisit as an adult. I saw it when it came out and liked it, but I couldn’t figure out why the girls didn’t just run away or take off once they hit 18, or something. I feel like I may have missed the point.