*** (out of ****)
Starring Colin Firth, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Wilkinson, Judy Parfitt, Cillian Murphy, Essie Davis, Gabrielle Reidy, and Joanna Scanlan
Directed by Peter Webber, from the novel by Tracy Chevalier
2003
95 min PG13
The paintings of Johannes Vermeer are almost all concerned with the domestic. Cooking, servants, maids, and still lifes of dinners on plates, mostly in houses and mostly lit by the most mundane sources of light, such as windows and candles. “Girl with a Pearl Earring,” the new film by Peter Webber based on the novel by Tracy Chevalier, gives us a fictionalized view of Vermeer that is completely domestic. He and his work are not influenced by politics, literature, war, great figures, or much in the way of religion, only by the intrigues, values, duties, and suspicious glances of his own household. We only see Vermeer (Colin Firth) outside his house once, and that is only as far as the doorstep. I think it no accident that it is while he is immersed in a conversation that makes him distinctly uncomfortable.
All this is seen through the eyes of a maid named Griet (Scarlett Johansson of “Lost in Translation”), who becomes an unwilling player in the internal struggles of the Vermeer family. Through her eyes we also see the cooking and cleaning that the master painted so much. As “Days of Heaven” practically teaches us how to run a farm, “Girl with a Pearl Earring” is so attentive to getting the water from the canal, throwing out the slop bucket, and cleaning the clothes with a lump of grease, that we could almost learn from it how to run a 16th century Dutch home.
The look of “Girl with a Pearl Earring” will endear it to viewers as much as its story and characters. Those familiar with Vermeer’s paintings and those of the 17th century Dutch masters will notice that the movie has been carefully constructed to imitate their style. While I did not see any particular painting being acted out precisely, characters are positioned as if in paintings, so that their mere seating arrangement is suggestive. Windows let in shafts of light from beside characters, never behind them, because that’s how Vermeer painted them. The movie’s color palette is gloomy and grey when Griet, faced with poverty, first comes to work for the Vermeer’s. Even her skin is pale, blue, and corpse-like, and as we watch the canal freeze over and listen to a terrified and congested Griet breathing through her mouth, we realize that few movies have made us feel colder.
But as spring comes and things start to look up for her, oranges and pinks are introduced. The first appearance of the master’s blue paint is so startling, because it is a shade we have not before seen, and as he shows Griet how to mix one color after another, cinematographer Eduardo Serra (who shot Shyamalan’s “Unbreakable”) really gets to strut his stuff. The movie’s production designers have also outdone themselves, creating a Dutch city that is as cramped, gloomy, and sooty as it must have really been, and yet as beautiful as anything you might see in a museum.
The master and the maid, one of the movie’s characters points out, is the oldest story. When Griet arrives at the Vermeer house, there is a bit of a sizzle between her and the painter, however stifled. Things at the Vermeer house are already a bit, well, complicated. Vermeer himself appears vaguely emasculated compared to his mother-in-law (Judy Parfitt), who rules the house with an iron grip, demanding that he churn out paintings while his wife (Essie Davis) churns out babies, both at regular intervals. Man and wife are stilted, even hostile, and he isn’t exactly a great father, what with the dark gazes, long hair, and reluctance to speak. In Griet, who has some experience with her father’s tiles, he finds someone who can share his appreciation for the act of painting, for staring at the world and deconstructing which colors comprise different things.
"Girl with a Pearl Earring," a novel inspired by the 17th century JohannesVermeer painting by the same name, is about being trapped. The girl, Griet, must offer herself as a maid to the Vermeer household after her father suffers an accident which prevents him from working. There she is not quite ill-treated, but worked very hard, and placed in one difficult position after another by Vermeer, who cares more for painting than for peace or justice in his home; his wife Catharina, always suspecting Griet of stealing either her husband or her jewels; Maria Thins, Catharina’s mother who runs the house and whose goal is for Vermeer to succeed financially so as to pay off the family’s debts; and the bratty daughter Cornelia, who’s slyness and deceptions never fail to cause trouble at Griet’s expense.
Although she never acts on her feelings, her situation is nevertheless worsened by her infatuation with Vermeer, her fascination with his painting, and his appreciation of her intuitive knowledge of colors and composition. He may care for her, but is caught in a trap of his own because he is married. Griet is offered an escape from the life of maid by a butcher who would make her his wife, but she is unsure if she desires this manner of escape, or in fact any escape at all. She views marriage as an exchange of her present cage for a different one. Ultimately, she is forced into a decision and must choose among several unattractive options to determine what her life will become.
Chevalier paints interesting characters into her novel, developing each of them quickly and skillfully. Characters make decisions that seem to flow organically out of their complex personalities and motivations, as opposed to simply satisfying the requirements of the plot. The story moves along at a brisk pace, keeping the reader engaged, but seems a trifle choppy in places. For example, each new year begins with a flashback in order to explain the events of the previous few months over which the narrative skips. This device seems unnecessary in a story with such a simple, straightforward plot.
Though the plot may be uncomplicated and direct, its emotional and psychological implications are far from it. Chevalier wisely avoids over-explaining her characters, letting their actions speak for themselves. Griet’s first-person narration never reveals all of her thoughts, as if she is holding herself back from the readers just as she often seems to be holding herself back in her relationships with other characters. Chevalier also avoids too much sentimentality, in a story which could have been melodramatic.
The only real problem I have with Chevalier’s work is that I began by liking Griet quite well, then found myself less and less fond of her as the book progressed. While she certainly lived a difficult life, I felt that a number of her problems were of her own making, and this impeded my sympathizing with her as much as I think I was intended to do. She made several poor choices as a result of her feelings for Vermeer, while refusing to be open or honest with anyone else, preventing herself from having any close relationships and increasing her dependence on his acceptance.
As Maria Thins may be hinting near the close of the book, Griet’s final choice, which she seems to bitterly resent, could have been a happy relief for her if she had been willing to open herself up to the butcher, her suitor. She never fully appreciates his devotion because she fears giving a part of herself to him in return. I believe her final thoughts prove that she was never as much trapped by her circumstances, as by her refusal to let anyone really know her.