We begin our new project with another filmmaker I hold in the highest regard: Sofia Coppola. I am even willing to state that I love her films more than the films made by her father. Today, we’ll discuss her feature film debut as a director, The Virgin Suicides. It is based on the novel by Jeffrey Eugenides and was released in 1999. I was twenty years old when this film released and I remember the trailers giving me vibes of Dazed and Confused — another film I was obsessed with back then and continue to be obsessed with this very day. Those initial vibes are mostly inaccurate because where Linklater’s film was about trying to hold on to your youth and freedom while staring adulthood in the face, Coppola’s film is about the youth pining for adulthood. I really dug this film twenty years ago but with age comes wisdom and now I can see this film for the masterwork it truly is.

The Virgin Suicides is such a confident debut. It comes as no surprise that Coppola has gone on to be one of the world’s most vibrant and fresh voices in cinema. She makes great use of every single thing in the film. Every frame, every shot, every lighting choice, it is all perfectly placed to tell this story. Her choice in music for the soundtrack is spot on and helps envelop us further in the lives of those who reside in this town. It becomes not only the story of these girls and the boys who obsessed over them but a story of the era. Specifically, Trip’s needle drop, with the literal sound of needle touching vinyl is chef’s kiss. Even little touches like the bronzed baby shoes on the side table near the front door and the father’s shoulder grab of one of the protestors at the cemetery, are magic.

More important than all of these little things is Coppola’s script. It is immaculate. Her dialog is so natural and realistic, it lends a documentary feel to this story. She mirrors this by creating scenes with one of the boys grown up, reminiscing of this particular time period, while in rehab. This is a story very much about these five sisters but it’s told through the eyes of the boys who were vexed by them. What Coppola does is important, she reframes things by still managing to put the girls front and center. It is no longer a story about women told by men, it’s now a story about women told by men while informing us of the women’s perspective at every turn. This creates a story so much more rewarding for us.

The actors all do great work in the film as well. James Woods is great (seriously, what happened to this guy?) as the father of the Lisbon sisters. He’s a math teacher in their high school and ignorant to the plight of his girls. He cares more about helping the boys who lust after his daughters than he cares about helping his daughters. He is a clueless, intellectual too busy with his own work and feelings as a man to be a good father. The sisters fare no better with their mother. Kathleen Turner is someone I’ve adored my entire life and she delivers a knock out performance here. She is a shade of who she once was when she was younger and she wears this on her sleeve. Everything she does to “protect” her daughters is actually causing them harm. Her fear drives her and infects everyone around her. She is so desperate to hang on to her daughters so they don’t make the same mistakes she made when she was younger. None of this is said out loud but through the performance we can infer it all. The young cast is excellent as well. Kirsten Dunst and Josh Hartnett the obvious standouts. No wonder they’ve gone on to fruitful careers. They have great chemistry together full of nervous energy. Giovani Ribisi’s narration is terrifically human and Michael Pare is phenomenal in his few scenes as an older Trip.

The constant sun-drenched visuals give us the constant sense that we’re watching a childhood memory and provides an ethereal vibe throughout. Coppola pairs this with ancillary dialog between other citizens of this town to give us that feeling of living in a gossipy small town — again, so so real.

What really kicks this film into gear is Coppola’s depiction of the intoxication of teenage lust — of uncontrollable hormones. She honestly portrays a teenage boy’s infatuation with how girls live compared to their own lives. It perfectly captures adolescence. I can speak for boys, once being a teenage boy myself, and tell you that we tend to obsess over girls at this age because they seem so confident, even if they’re actually lacking in confidence. We’re too dense and selfish to notice that part at all. No, we focus on the mysterious and uniqueness of girls and we are so insecure ourselves that we are constantly and desperately seeking answers and understanding.

The film feels like a commentary on how male-dominated society views women as possessions and/or trophies. This is perfectly executed in the section dealing with the homecoming dance. The girls are raffled off because it’s the only way Trip can convince the Lisbon’s to allow Lux to go. What Coppola focuses on at first, again, is important. She shows the girls with each other, forget the opportunistic boys, these girls are finally free. They are in a fairy tale and free from their prison and life could not be better. It’s awesome. Of course, this spirals into devastation when Lux fails to return home that night and the girls are locked away completely by their parents. There’s a cute sequence involving the girls and boys sending coded messages back and forth, over the phone via vinyl records. This too ends in tragedy as it leads to the girls all freeing themselves for good by committing suicide.

The film now shifts solely to the perspective of the boys and how they’ve been marked their entire lives by the Lisbon sisters and their unseemly end. This is what men do: they make every story about themselves somehow. It is the male ego in its purest form. Trip even trying to say how much he loved Lux is utter bullshit aiming to resolve himself of any guilt. No, he’d rather wallow in self pity even though he’s the one who ditched her after they had sex on the football field. The film closes with the citizens throwing a big summer bash for a graduate, the Lisbons a recent yet distant memory for most. It highlights the toxicity of “civilized” society in all its debutante glory.

Sofia Coppola came out swinging from minute one. Delivering a film that mesmerized me at age twenty and now, twenty one years later, has helped me gain a great amount of perspective on my own teenage years — failings and all. I couldn’t ask for more from a work of art.

Next week, Lost in Translation, a film I listed as the third best film of its decade. Until then, love each other.