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Some films that are not violent are far more intriguingly dramatic than those that pour it on. After experiencing Mel Gibson's whip lash film, "The Passion of the Christ", Director Peter Webber's work "Girl with a Pearl Earring", based on the novel by Tracy Chevalier, screenplay by Olivia Hererd, was a welcome relief. I have an irresistible passion for films about artists. Van Gogh, Pollock, Mozart, Beethoven, Picasso, 19th century actor Edwin Booth (Richard Burton – one of his best performances in "Prince of Players"), and others – of more or less renown.
I'm intrigued, not by the secrets of artistic success, but how an artist, intensely aware of possibilities, comes to grips with a task that ends up a masterpiece. Hidden in the best imaginative efforts, a life can be found; well spent in an art well executed.
"Girl With A Pearl Earring" is a story based on a painting by Jan Vermeer, the 16th century Belgium painter whose compositional skill and use of color, light, and shadow are compelling. The depth perception and intricate intimacy of the story matches the luminescence of the painting displayed at the Hague in the Netherlands. Throw a coin in the fountain on that one.
The girl with the pearl earring looks directly at you over her left shoulder; open, frank, conscious - with a sense of wonder and a charmed intelligence.  The pearl in her ear radiant. Mona Lisa, on the other hand, appears with a whiff of a smile; distant, restrained. How the girl in Vermeer's painting got that luminous pearl on her ear goes to the heart of the story. And the answer to the question leads to the mystery of the pearl: a pierced ear, blood, a metaphor – a gem of a story that more than meets the eye.
When a village girl, Griet (Scarlett Johanson), arrives at the Vermeer household in Luxembourg she has nothing more on her mind than doing her job. She is met by Vermeer's mother-in-law (Judy Parfitt) – a hard-nosed, domestic autocrat – out to keep the household intact through Vermeer's income earned by his paintings. Griet's job is to clean the house, wash clothes, shop for meat to cook, and, most importantly, move about the house with discretion. To be there and not be seen. She is told never to go into the studio where Vermeer paints. But she does, after she glimpses his paintings through an open door. Entering the studio, she is immediately aware that there is not enough light in the room for a painter to paint. She washes the windows. This act opens the door to a story that is associative and psychologically rooted. It says more by what is left unsaid. Implying through observation what remains unstated. Until the household explodes with quenched humanity.
Vermeer (Colin Firth) discovers her in his studio examining his paintings. He is captivated by her presence. In the same way that Degas in his paintings might have been captivated by the ballet dancers back stage. But with a difference. Vermeer puts Griet to work mixing paint and posing for him. The two dance around each other without taking steps. It is exactly in that restraint where the film works best; in the silent by play, with its hints of foreplay: the mixing of paint, the intimate adjustments of posing, the tuned in pitch of a low key sensuality, slowly heightens the dramatic tension. Eduardo Serra's stunning cinematography adds to the impact. He uses Vermeer's perspective and colors without being slavishly formalistic.
When Vermeer takes a pearl from his wife's jewel box to place on Griet's ear, the story comes to a head. The piercing of Griet's ear, the red blood flowing, the astonishment on Griet's virginal face – startles the picture perfect passion of Vermeer into life. His daughter has been spying on him painting Griet. His wife, Catherina (Essie Davis), outraged, jealous, threatened, demands that Griet be thrown out of the house. His manipulative mother-in-law wants him to finish the painting for his patron, Van Ruijven. Van Ruijven (Tom Wilkenson), a groping character of barely containable sleaziness, decides that since he is buying the painting he can get whatever he wants – including the girl in the painting.
Director Webber makes full use of stifled middle class insecurities. Contrasting the rigidly ordered and class conscious Vermeer household with the lively exchanges of the working poor at an open air market place. When the nascent middle class in town can't pay their debts, their furniture is removed. Thrown out on the street for everyone to see.When Griet goes to the public market to buy meat, her fleeting exchanges with the butcher boy contrasts with the stark brutishness of pinkish-white pig heads, and the stripped carcasses hanging from hooks. It might very well turn you into a vegetarian. Unless, of course, the silent stares of the dead animals whets your appetite.
"Girl With A Pearl Earring" is not an art film – whatever that may mean. Instead it uses art intelligently, with quiet, reserved passion, to reveal the everyday drama of being alive and fully conscious. It doesn't have a twist of spin. And you don't have to be nailed to a cross by Mel Gibson to experience it.
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