The Virgin Suicides

Earlier this evening I watched Sophia Coppola's brilliant film The Virgin Suicides. I have yet to read the book, but I definitely want to now! 

Something about this movie gives me this sense of nostalgic yearning for I-don't-know-what, and it's beautiful in that painful sort of way that yearning can sometimes be. It's very interesting, and it's a feeling that proves to me that I enjoyed a film. It's the same sort of feeling I get when I watch Donnie Darko, or even Fight Club. The most interesting part is that this movie didn't make me sad, even with all those yearning sort of feelings and the sad tones of the film - it made me think, and it made me inspired, and I think that's why I enjoyed it as much as I did. 

The Virgin Suicides is one of those things that makes you sad in the happiest way (or perhaps happy in the saddest way?) and you love every minute of it, even though you get this sort of weird feeling in the back of your mind and the pit of your stomach, desperately trying to urge yourself to not be happy, and that this isn't the time to be inspired and this isn't the time to want to do something interesting. 

I really do wish I knew how to describe the feeling any better than that, but I honestly don't, so I think I'll just bask in it for a while.