Field Of Dreams Film Analysis

Besides an initial voiceover narration introducing Ray Kinsella (Kevin Cosner), his beloved wife Annie (Amy Madigan), and their young daughter Karin, this is the first scene in Field of Dreams, released in 1989 and directed by Phil Alden. The voice-over establishes the expectation of the film as being a sensible story about a loving couple trying to run a family farm in Iowa, and the subsequent scene (pictured above) quickly deconstructs that expectation. While working in his field one night, Ray hears a voice whispering “If you build it, he will come.” From then on, there are no more misconceptions about Field of Dreams being anything but an unapologetic fantasy in which an Iowa farmer mows down his fields to build a baseball diamond where

the ghosts of great baseball players of the past can come to play ball. This opening scene functions as exposition to establish the farmland setting, the character Ray and his relationship with his family, and most importantly, the mysterious and mystical mood that the rest of the movie will follow. The visual image of the soft, heavenly Iowa dusk and the eerie vastness of the corn field, including the composition of Ray wandering inside it, the pansophical presence of the camera, and the diegetic ambient sound as well as nondiegetic score; all of these interact to effectively create meaning in relation to the content of the scene — Ray’s first encounter with the magical, perhaps holy force that drives the film.
Shots 1, 2, and 3 are wide shots of open landscape space from a high angle looking into the horizon — shot 3 actually begins at horizon level and then slowly dollies up so that the camera is now looking down on the field and the small farm house as if a spectator from above.

The next shot (shot 4) is composed so that we see Annie and Karin on the porch swing as if the narrator is standing out in the field watching them from afar. The following shot (shot 5) begins similarly, looking down on the corn field, but dollies and turns to follow Ray (indicated in shot 5.1 and 5.2) for a close-up amidst his crops as he first hears that famous line. He quickly looks around: shot 7 consists of a quick pan across the skyline — there’s nobody there. The movement of the camera in these opening shots makes it very clear that the camera is acting as a watchful and knowing presence, and it can easily be argued that the camera takes the point of view of the spiritual figure guiding the plot’s events. Shot 14 in particular, in which Ray exits the frame entirely and re-enters at the sound of the voice, reveals the camera to be a narrator with omniscient knowledge. The camera doesn’t follow Ray because something else is about to happen right where he was standing. It’s also important to note that in shot 5, the camera begins high above the landscape and then delves into the field so that the shot is almost overrun by the corn growing through the edges of the frame — the spiritual

figure from above descends to be embodied by the corn field itself, which becomes a place of miracles throughout the movie.
The composition of the successive shots reinforces the concept of Ray as a humble farmer in the presence of something much greater.

The space always overwhelms the human beings in its midst — Ray has a small presence in the frame and is obscured by his crops as he shouts to Annie and Karin (shots 10 and 12), asking if they heard “that voice just now.” He has to shout because he’s so far away, the distance between them exaggerated by the camera angle and placement in shots 11 and 12. Shot 13 is the closest we get to Annie and Karen, and it is still a fairly wide view. Because the corn field takes up much of the space, it acts as a vital aspect of the scene — clear limits of the field are never shown, so that it just seems to go on and on forever. We don’t get to see the bigger picture (literally) and neither does Ray. Instead, a near-claustrophobic atmosphere is created as the maze of eye-level corn stalks prevents Ray, isolated and closed-off, from a sense of clarity. He can’t see where the voice might be coming from. The design of the shown space, in addition to the camera movement previously discussed, is also a signifier that the voice most likely comes from a holy or higher power. The establishing shots of the setting are very non-stylized and natural, emphasizing the beauty of the Iowa evening and the simplicity of the Kinsella’s home and lifestyle. (Note: Here, the filmmakers appeal to the audience’s preconceived notions and expectations to underline the

concept they are trying to convey. In much of film and particularly literature, nature is often associated with God, and simple people living simple lives are often the worthy receivers of God’s miracles. The Kinsella’s farmhouse and their red barn make use of social coding and a shared system of thought, introducing a cultural context for the characters. The plot so far has shown us that Ray is a farmer, but the use of cultural codes allows us to apply generic conventions ( such as socioeconomic and traditional inferences) to fill information into the story that has not been explicitly expressed (i.e. Ray is an Iowa farmer, therefore he is hard-working, family oriented, a good person, salt-of-the-earth, etc…)
The diegetic sound throughout the scene includes the chirping of birds and insects, the rustle of the corn stalks in the wind, Ray’s footsteps and shovel as it breaks into the dirt, and the dialogue between him and Annie. Most of the diegetic sound sets up the verisimilitude and normalcy of the action (Ray tending his crops), some of it is even calming (you can hear the porch swing that Annie and Karin are sitting on as it swings back and forth, and the ice clink in Annie’s glass.) What’s interesting is that even the whisper conforms to that verisimilitude. Although it is unexplainable and sourceless, the whisper isn’t an echoing or commanding Voice of God, but rather a very purposefully (the voice heard in the movie was actually created when the movie’s supervising sound effects editor Sandy Gendler “took a recording of the whisper out into a canyon late at night and played it back in a real world night environment, and recorded what it sounded like being played back outside…” [Field of Dreams DVD commentary by Phil Alden]) non-modified and natural human whisper that Ray hears in his head. The verisimilitude of the non-diegetic sound, however, is in direct contract with the diegetic musical elements. A mysterious and striking suspense is created from the very beginning by the instrumental score. This non-diegetic element sets the tone and acts almost as a foreshadowing agent. Without the musical background, the story of the scene becomes about a schizophrenic episode instead of a life-changing, magical moment.
The color and lighting of the scene suggests the natural reality of dusk settling quietly over Iowa fields. Each of several wide shots of the horizon features sweet purples and pinks swept across the darkening sky (shots 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9.) The dark colors strike a balance between simple and foreboding. The fading skylight suggests a subtle urgency to the scene; soon it will be completely dark, and the corn field will become even more shadowed and mysterious than it is now. There are only two sources of warm light shown: the setting sun behind Ray, and the glowing lamps filling the house behind where Annie and Karin sit on the swing. The first source is only visible in the frame while Ray has just heard or is about to hear the whisper another time (shots 5.2 and 8.) (Note: Every other time the voice appears, the shot contains only Ray amidst a sea of corn stalks, as in shots 6 and 15. This, as well as the descent of the camera previously discussed, contributes to the idea of the camera being equivalent to the voice, which is a spiritual figure embodied in both the heavenly sky and the corn field.) The second source of light, representative of safety and normalcy, is where Annie and Karin call Ray into the house for dinner at the end of the scene. The only two light sources present in the scene rest opposite each other spatially, offering a choice for Ray to make; his walking towards the house and away from the setting sun can be seen as a visual representation of his embracing the comfortable and known rather than the unknown nature of the whispering voice.