The Virgin Suicides is a film which exudes not only beauty, but melancholy and wistfulness; a gentleness and a severity too; an age of innocence in which young girls quickly learn far too much of the wicked world and its realities to possibly be able to long thrive within it. A time in which the admiring neighborhood boys watch, to their great dismay, as the gorgeousness and grace of a group of sisters withers and fades before their very eyes. To the best of my ability, I have tried to capture elements of all of these things to present a collection which has the feeling and the flavor of the film itself. Please peruse and enjoy.
“It didn’t matter how old they were, or that they were girls—what mattered was that we loved them, and they didn’t hear us calling them out of that room where they went to hide away forever.”
