Movies on the edge

By STEVE PERSALL

© St. Petersburg Times, published May 12, 2000

[Photo: Paramount Classics] Leslie Hayman, Kirsten Dunst, A.J. Cook and Chelse Swain star in The Virgin Suicides, the directing debut of Sofia Coppola.

THE VIRGIN SUICIDES (R) (96 min.) -- Sofia Coppola has been a film industry joke since spoiling The Godfather, Part III with a pivotal, amateurish performance. Ten years later, she deserves serious praise as a filmmaker with this haunting debut, a confident labor of love and dexterity.

The Virgin Suicides will be committed by the Lisbon sisters, five freshly scrubbed suburban teenagers in 1975. Their fates are sealed in the opening lines of Coppola's screenplay, yet the inevitable remains as alluring as Lester Burnham's American Beauty doom. Why they die isn't fully explained, as many suicides go.

Coppola is more interested in whatever romance the girls represent, and therefore what is lost. The film's point of view isn't within the Lisbon home, but down the street and across classrooms where boys idolize the sisters from afar. They can look, but not touch, since Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon (James Woods, Kathleen Turner) smother their daughters with old-fashioned values and restrictions.

Thirteen-year-old Therese (Leslie Hayman) is first to go, and grief becomes family imprisonment. The girls bristle, especially Lux (Kirsten Dunst), whose hormones are racing. She even reduces school hunk Trip Fontaine (Josh Hartnett) to a stammering admirer. The prom is coming, and Trip's request to escort Lux leads to tragedy.

Sounds grim, yet Coppola handles the material with an affectionate blend of gauzy nostalgia and dark humor. Not as savage as Heathers, but it keeps the film from becoming an after-school special.

Coppola adds playful, poignant touches like eye twinkles and X-ray vision, a telling mix of pop music and genial adolescent pranks. She doesn't preach against teen suicide, but makes it an obvious waste.

The cast is impressive, although Lux is the only sister who becomes more than a Marcia Brady icon. Dunst is a pleasure to watch, shifting between little-girl tantrums and cooing manipulation with ease. Lux is what each of these girls should grow up to be, but won't. Rather than a martyr, Dunst makes Lux a missed opportunity.

Woods is wonderful in an unusually repressed role, a brainy nebbish who teaches teens but can't relate to them. Turner scores as the dour, reclusive mother, clinging to religion and modesty against the sexual revolution outside her door. Hartnett leaves a charismatic imprint. Cameos by Scott Glenn and Michael Pare, plus warm, hindsight narration by Giovanni Ribisi, are satisfying.

The Virgin Suicides is all mood and little dramatic meat, a problem that may not occur to a viewer until it ends. Coppola's grasp of the material and her mildly inventive storytelling hold your attention. Unlike her acting career, it will be interesting to see what she does next as a filmmaker.

Opens today at Beach Theater and Tampa Theatre. B+

HUMAN TRAFFIC (R) (99 min.) -- Justin Kerrigan's relentlessly rowdy film follows five Welsh mates during a typical weekend of rave-club adventures. "Typical" means ingesting alcohol, Ecstasy and anything else to get them in the properly frenzied mood. Think Trainspotting with a techno-beat.

Jip (John Simm) is the ringleader, a hyperactive slacker suffering through impotence created by his drug use. He would like to be more intimate with his buddy Lulu (Lorraine Pilkington), and an all-nighter at a rave club may do the trick.

Nina (Nicola Reynolds) is a dizzy flirt making her boyfriend Koop (Shaun Parkes) jealous. New to the group is Moff (Danny Dyer), a teenager taking his first plunge into Ecstasy.

There is no describable story, just shabby ramblings showing the reckless abandon of these sketchy lives. It can be exhilarating or irritating, depending on a viewer's knowledge and tolerance of such behavior. Kerrigan pulls out all stops, rarely bolting down the camera for a steady view of what's happening. When he does, a character is likely to lean into the lens screaming brain-addled philosophy.

Human Traffic is certainly energetic, and several scenes are quite funny. But the overall effect is like being trapped in a room with a speed freak. Sooner or later, the mood shifts from curiosity to amusement and finally to looking for an exit. Fine for cultists, but non-ravers may ask for their money back.

Opens today at Veterans 24 in Tampa. C+