The Virgin Suicides The appearance of the Lisbon sisters is not important. What's important is how the neighborhood kids thought they looked. There is a time in every boy's teenage season when a particular girl seems to have materialized in his dreams, backlit by the sky. Sofia Coppola's "The Virgin Suicides" is narrated by an adult who speaks for "us," for all the kids in a suburban Michigan neighborhood 25 years ago who loved and lusted after girls from Lisbon. We know from the title and the incipit that the girls killed themselves. Most of the reviews focused on the girls. The other topic is missing: the awkward and insecure desire of boys. The film is as much about those boys, "us", as it is about the girls of Lisbon. How Trip Fontaine (Josh Hartnett), the leader of the pack, loses his baby fat and transforms into a junior stud who is taken aback by sex and beauty and dazzled by Lux Lisbon (Kirsten Dunst), who perfect Lisbon girls is the most perfect. In each class there's a couple having sex while the others just talk about it, and Trip and Lux ​​make love on the night of the big dance. But that's not the point. The point is that the next morning she wakes up, alone, in the middle of the football field. And the point is that Trip, as the adult narrator, remembers not only that "back then she was the anchor of the changing world" and that "most people have never tasted that kind of love," but also: " I liked it a lot. But out there on the football field, it was different." Yes, it was. Was it... middle of paper... creatures? And then the reality of sex, too young, removes the innocent idealism and reveals its secret engine, which is animalistic and brutal, lustful and contemptuous. In a sense, the Lisbon girls and the neighborhood boys never existed, except in their 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 early on. We see her talking to a psychiatrist after trying to cut her wrists. “You're not even old enough to know how hard life is,” he tells her. "Obviously, Doctor," he says, "you were never a 13-year-old girl." No, but her profession and every adult life is a bit like the search for happiness that she doesn't even know she has..