After 5 films now, it's clear that Sofia Coppola is a formalist first and foremost, but it's still a little alarming how thoroughly she was able to adapt the tone of the book's prose to the screen, especially as a first time director. The melancholy and mystery of Eugenides' words absolutely permeates every frame, complemented perfectly by the fantastic period detail: 1970s, suburban America, an idyllic homestead as any, filtered through a fever-dream haze. As per usual, the soundtrack choices are spot on. Filled with classics from the 60s and 70s, and a splash of modern and ethereal additions by Air; the music is essential, and expertly paired with the gorgeous images. I don't know if there's ever been a more fitting introduction to a character than Trip Fontaine walking down the halls of his school to the guitar wails of Heart's "Magic Man".
I love how the narrator is never specified beyond being one of the boys. They, as a collective, share an experience, and then they share it with us. Even though we see more of them than their book counterparts (perhaps due to Coppola relating more with them than Eugenides did) the girls remain mysterious, elusive, and the boy's obsession with them is transferred to the audience. We watch and wonder, forming assumptions based on brief glimpses behind the curtain. Of course, we never come to understand them (because when have teenage boys understood girls?), but we make assumptions anyways because it's human nature. Surely the parents are at fault? But what about their peers? What about the media they consume? It's left deliberately vague and mysterious, and the desire to unravel and understand is certainly a reason for the continued relevance of both book and movie.
While the book was languid, the mundane turned extraordinary through expertly designed sentences; I often overlooked the sharp, black humor in favor of the mysterious beauty. The movie, to my great delight, is full of tiny moments – often provided by the actors, professionals of the highest order – where the smallest gesture or a look can bring the largest laugh. James Woods in particular gives a fantastic performance, all awkward positioning and uncertain conversation.
By the time the movie ends, it feels as if we've witnessed and experienced these events alongside our group of boys, the way that stories we've heard in our lives over and over seem to become our own memories. The aimlessness of the narrative feels like a group recollecting a series of events years later, unsure of the order in which the stories should be told. Like the character's memories, some stories linger in my mind, while others fade and are forgotten. Moments like dancing to "Come Sail Away" at the homecoming, or discovering the girl's bodies are forever burned into my cinematic mind. It's a pretty great achievement for Coppola and her team (and I think it's her warmest and prettiest looking movie too, credit to Edward Lachman where it's due).
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