Rewatching after many years, perhaps because I have caught up with it, there is more to see, and more to hear in the multitude of silences that define Griet.
I had recently read the book when I first saw the film, and agree with the reviewer who said that the book’s story benefits from the film’s visual beauty.
I think something equally powerful happens when the book’s first person narration becomes Grier’s nearly mute presence in her own story. On the page she is is never silent - she is open to us.
The film requires us to open to her. Her wordlessness forces us to learn about her the way she learns: by paying close attention. At the beginning, Griet’s innocence and ignorance are nearly interchangeable, and both give way to cruel experience and self-discovery. And while she may like the boy and be confused by her more complex reaction to Vermeer, it is the studio where she first feels passion - unique, immediate, and utterly private.
It is the kind of passion that can override conventional accountability, as it does for both Vermeer and his patron the sexual predator.
Everything is quieter and more internal for Griet.
I think discovering that personal capacity transforms Griet’s navigation of powerlessness and self-respect - that is the story I think the film tells beautifully. It isn’t so much better than the book as successful on its own terms.