Nomadland (2020)

Dir. Chloe Zhao

I'm not homeless, I'm just houseless. It is not the same thing, right?

Nomadland is a great film I can understand some not “getting”. Its story is small, quiet, lonely, and sad. I doubt it will imprint itself in your memory the way you expect an Academy Award winner for “Best Picture” to. That said, it’s superbly shot and acted. Its story and characters are rich. Some will find its story powerful, and emotional.

After the US Gypsum plant in Empire, Nevada, shuts down, so does the town. Fern (Frances McDormand) sells her possessions and begins living out of her van. She is part of a group of people who’ve found they cannot live on their retirement savings and now embrace a nomadic life.

There isn’t much of a plot to Nomadland. We follow Fern from job to job, as she befriends other nomads, parts ways with them, reconnects months later, and deals with the struggles unique to her situation. The most significant event is when her engine breaks down and she asks her sister (Melissa Smith) for help. Even then, it’s just life. Like the nomads, you don't know what tomorrow will bring.

No one is rebelling against a system they hate and hoping to see break down. It's simply that some people don’t fit in “normal” society. Most often, it’s because of grief. When you think of living on the road, you think of happiness, freedom. That’s not the case here. The travelers we meet may be unshackled by material possessions but many of them are lonely. Chloé Zhao (who also wrote and edited the film) isn’t suggesting this lifestyle is what we all need. She’s merely asking us to look at these people's lives, to see what works, what doesn't, and to learn from it.

As Fern, Frances McDormand is excellent. She’s so natural, it feels like a documentary rather than fiction. Even before the end credits confirm it, you kind of know most of those we’ve met are just playing themselves.

Also noteworthy is the cinematography. Usually, this means grandiose images full of bold colors, the kind you’d print on a huge canvas for guests to admire. Such a reaction would be out of place in Nomadland. The images we see - beautiful as they are - would be more suited to small 8 in. x 10 in. frames, or a photo album. The innocuous shot of a cactus, of Fern posing next to a landmark, of friends, are memories of a life you only truly appreciate by understanding the stories behind them - and you will after seeing Nomadland.

Like Zhao's 2017 film The Rider, Nomadland feels deeply personal. It wasn't made to scoop up awards or even be seen by the masses. It was made because Zhao needed to make it; because these people needed to tell this story. Maybe it will stick in your mind after it’s over. If it doesn’t, that’s ok. Nomadland doesn’t seem like the kind of movie that would care. It knows what impact it had on you while it played. That’s what matters. (April 27, 2021)