Stephen- Lovefield Narrative Analysis

Lovefield: Narrative

The short film Lovefield follows a strict linear structure; the film follows an in-time story chronologically, building suspense throughout 4 of Todorov’s stages. The use of linear narrative allows the ending, Todorov’s Resolution to reach its climax with an unexpected twist, something that a flashback may have delved into resulting in us waiting for the event to happen.  We’re left in a restricted narration to block out key elements that show us what the story is actually about; for example: we don’t see the woman’s full body, just her feet and a knife in the ground:

This causes an immense shock effect upon the viewer; combined with the chilling non-diegetic sound, and the diegetic sound of the knife impacting the ground. In doing so, this creates a narrative for the story, and expands on the plot: we know the plot revolves around something painful, (the blood) and we’re left wondering what it is.  

The entire short film is filled with enigma codes; constantly causing the viewer to question the events happening and, in some cases, to shock them instantly. Firstly, there’s the cornfield that this film is set in: a common semantic code for horror and thriller films. By using this enigma code the audience is left wondering about what’s going on in the field, how far it is from civilization and other questions around the setting. We’re left frightened at these questions, making us feel isolated as we watch the movie, scared for what might happen.

We’re then shown a crow perched on a creaking farm sign, a common semantic code for thrillers to convey death (Hence, a group of crows being a ‘murder’ of crows), leading to the crow being another enigma code leading the mystery surrounding the cornfield.

Looking at Todorov’s 5 key narrative elements it’s easy to see where each boundary lays, as well as how the elements affect the plot. In the Equilibrium: We are met with an extreme long shot that opens the scene, showing the setting of the corn fields surrounding the area; it’s an ominous vibe but nothing out of the ordinary. However, the introduction of the eerie music and a crow perched on a sign represents a feeling of disturbance; the cawing blocks out any other diegetic sound the audience may hear.

In the Disruption:  As the camera pans down from the corn, we hear the beeping of a mobile phone (It being an enigma code) - signalling that a phone call was just dropped-we’re wondering why it was dropped and why it’s also physically dropped on the floor. We then begin to hear a woman crying and shrieking, the true disruption to the otherwise normal countryside.  We continue to hear the eerie, disruptive, musical score. The disruption ends when the knife is stabbed in the ground, and the diegetic sounds stop. An appropriate end, as the countryside is filled with its normal, non-disruptive, sounds again. As we pan up on a man who’s got rough and bloody hands we instantly think he is the antagonist, we also think that he has murdered the crying woman, hence the silence in diegetic sound.

In the Confrontation:  As the male character goes back to the car to get a blanket, we see the crow confronting the man- as if the crow is the protagonist, hindering the man in his progress. Due to the restricted narration, we don’t understand how the man can kill a woman but nor kill a crow.  We witness the man act in a panicked state, giving us clues as to what he’s doing.

In the Resolution: The resolution is easily seen, and is a happy one, when the camera slowly reveals a baby being wrapped in the blanket by the man (the supposed antagonist). The restricted narration then becomes clear, and the audience realise that the woman was giving birth, and the man (a farmer) was trying to help her.

Finally, in the New Equilibrium: This is when the normality is returned or restored, or to a point where life is relatively the same. The camera tracks out across the corn fields after the woman has delivered her baby, showing the full surroundings in an omniscient, unrestricted, view.  We understand now that, as the police car pulls up, the phone was a desperate attempt to get last minute help that failed to come on time, and the farmer was doing his job when he noticed the woman struggling.  As opposed to earlier, with the dark clouds casting a dark light over the scene, the lighting here is much brighter than before, providing a perfect reflection of the change in the mood and genre- from a thriller/horror to a sentimental family piece.

Throughout the piece the binary oppositions are cleverly disguised and hidden, making a unique piece of art in the process. The first binary opposite would be the most obvious one between good and evil- the male ‘antagonist’ and the female ‘protagonist.’ We never see the woman, except at the end resolution, and still we know she’s a good character through the use of tears (you can’t dislike someone who’s obviously in so much pain for, what we only know is, no reason). The opposite being the antagonistic male character, a well-built muscled man, with tattoos and blood and dirt on his hands- all these add up to a negative view on him. Levi Strauss’s theory could also be applied to the plot itself- the beginning as opposed to the ending, both a desperate opposites of the other. With one, the beginning, being dark and ominous, while being kept in restricted narration and the other being brighter and joyous, while panning out in an unrestricted view of the setting. A more in-depth view of it would be that, in the beginning of the film, we think there’s been death and, at the ending the opposite has happened: there’s a baby born bringing in life.

Propp’s theory of character types somewhat applies to the story, however only to one of the characters- the other character shows that not everyone follows the ‘norm’. In doing this, the director- Mathieu Ratthe- has shown us not to ‘judge a book by its cover’, no matter what signs may point to what opinion. This attitude has served this film well to create a thrilling piece, whilst not scarring anyone who watches it.  The ‘Hero’ of the piece is the female, there’s no denying that, as she’s given birth as well as being the center of the story. The villain would have been the man acting antagonistically, however that is thrown out the door as he holds the baby- a metaphor for when a normally bad person holds his child for the first time and becomes a loving father, instead of who he was before. The princess/reward, in my opinion, is a comical one- it is only after the child is born when the crow stops cawing at an annoying, ominous, tone, instead settling for a softer normal tone everyone is used to.