I've watched this film many times because it is in itself a masterpiece. I'm a fan of Vermeer and this film attempts to divulge that it would be nearly impossible for any artist to create the works that Vermeer did without some kind of assistance.One aspect is that Vermeer did not sketch this work beneath the paint; something always found within other works by other renowned artists. As pointed out, microscopic tests suggest that Vermeer painted without having drawn anything on the canvas of this particular work, "Music Lesson".It is captivating to see how a modern day man can mix pigments to make paint as it was made in the 1600's, no less that he could re-create a masterpiece in modern times as exact as well. The attention to details by erecting a room that was so much like the original is simply amazing.This is a must see film for anyone who enjoys art and especially those of the great masters. It does question how great they really were, given that a priceless artwork can indeed be reproduced in what can only be called, "brilliant". However given that we can "copy" such works, they are still appreciated as masterpieces no matter how they were created. Does age alone make such works stunning or valuable? Perhaps yes. Were the artists that great? Perhaps no. Either way, this film is an incredible view from the perspective of the only man who has challenged what we thought we knew. It is up to the observer to decide the truths.

This flick is a treasure box of commentary. It's about the nexus of tech and art; the power of intuition; the validation of genius-as-perseverance; a slow-burn reminder of the value of doing over fantasizing; of materiality as a virtue, which winds up being a sort of metaphor for the Tao, you could suppose; and it's a thought-provoking juxtaposition of the trackable immediacy of our time against the frustratingly ephemeral nature of history.And there's so much more. This story of a man's obsessive pursuit of a provisional truth of art history explodes into ponderings on the nature of modern American commerce--and not without a nod to class.And there's even more! The film, itself, also so-happens to achieve a grail of documentary; it puts you there, and makes you feel like you're sharing the excitement, the wearying obsessions over detail, the running revulsion over the sense that, at any moment, this massive effort could hit any of a number of cul-de-sacs, producing an awesomely bizarre kind of abject failure.I hope this gets across to you that _Tim's Vermeer_ isn't an ordinary documentary. For one thing, the subject matter--a man's ardent, hands-on pursuit of a provisional artistic truth--gets tracked in real time, albeit artfully boiled down to a 70-odd minute exposition. And that, in itself, is a bit of a wonder; that a 70+ minute presentation has you sweating bullets over a man's determination to forge a painting, and discover something beyond painting in the process.It's definitely worth watching.

Tim Jenison works out how it was possible for Vermeer to paint what amounts to photo realistic paintings with a great deal of ease. He then builds a full scale room that matches one in a Vermeer painting in order to further prove it.I'm mixed on this film. While I think Tim pretty much proves Vermeer could have used this method to paint the film, I'm still pondering why the film runs 80 minutes especially after 15 he's proved his point. Yes I completely understand that seeing Tim paint the copy is the point but taking it that far raises more questions than are healthy such as how Tim learned to paint and mix colors and how it would be possible for a regular guy to just do it.Don't get me wrong but at a certain point I just wanted to know why this film was longer than say a half an hour.Worth a look but its little more than a Discovery Channel documentary.

What exactly is the relationship between science and art? Are they entirely separate domains or is there, Venn-diagram-like, some overlap between them?The 17th Century Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer has long been considered the world's master of the "photographic" painting. So lifelike, in fact, are Vermeer's works that it has long been speculated that he may have used some kind of scientific device available at the time to help him achieve the effect. Well, filmmaker Penn Jillette, with the help of Tim Jenson - an inventor, NOT a painter - has decided to get to the bottom of the controversy. The result is "Tim's Vermeer," a brief (76 minutes), fast-paced and utterly absorbing documentary that provides an aesthetic and intellectual feast for art and science lovers alike.Since this IS Penn Jillette we're talking about here - an illusionist who is also a tireless advocate for rationalism and empiricism - it's fitting that the movie would apply scientific precepts to its analysis of art. Tim hypothesizes that Vermeer may have used a device called a camera obscura combined with a small portable mirror to achieve an unprecedented verisimilitude in his paintings. It's pure speculation, since Vermeer left no notes behind documenting his creative and technical process. So Tim has decided to paint his own "Vermeer" using the technique he postulates the artist himself used, and to document that process on film. To that end, Tim has chosen Vermeer's "The Music Lesson" as his subject to copy, going so far as to recreate the room, along with the people and objects contained therein, of the original painting down to the smallest detail, only utilizing (and even crafting, if necessary) lenses, mirrors, lighting and paints that were in existence in the 1600s. It is a project that would take five full years to complete.If Vermeer did indeed use these optic "tricks" to achieve his effect, does that somehow diminish him as an artist? Does it make his skill as a painter less astonishing, even if it heightens his ingenuity as an inventor and problem-solver? Probably no more so than a second-rate painter being able to replicate (i.e., "forge") any art masterpiece diminishes the talent of the original artist. And why would it be considered "cheating" for an artist to incorporate all the technological devices available to him at the time to help him in his painting? Why must there exist an arbitrary and artificial dividing line between science and art? These are the questions that Teller's fascinating little movie brings to the fore.But isn't it better just to keep it all as a mystery, to declare Vermeer an artistic genius of the first rank and leave it at that? Perhaps, but then we wouldn't have "Tim's Vermeer" to inspire and engage us.