Nomadland
Watching Chloe Zhao’s “Nomadland,” and especially its ending, my mind went to when the movie theatre I worked at for nearly 19 years closed just past a month after re-opening in 2020 because of the COVID pandemic. As I write these words, that was 2 1/2 months ago, but for the long-term, the context is important. I feel like a lot of people are going to resonate with “Nomadland” in a similar manner, because the film has a beauty and power that will have us reflecting on our lives, where we were, and where we’ve been, and especially if corporate America is the reason for such a dramatic change in one’s life. Because it wasn’t the pandemic that closed my theatre, it was the company that ran it, when they were in a dispute with the owners of the property. To the people I worked with, I’ll see you down the road.
“Nomadland” starts with a title card about how a sheetrock plant in the town of Empire, Nevada, shut its doors in early 2011; by July, the zip code for Empire was discontinued. It became unprofitable for the company to continue, so they closed it, and it led to the death of an American town. Zhao’s film centers its focus on Fern (Frances McDormand), a widower whose left the town after her husband, and the town, died. When we meet her, she is working part-time at Amazon, which helps her out with lodging for the duration of the job, but once it’s done, where does she go? A friend shows her a video of Bob (Bob Wells), a nomad who preaches the life of living out of one’s vehicle, and teaches people who to do so. It’s a revelation for Fern, and she takes to the life with aplomb, retrofitting her van for all the comforts she could need, and meeting interesting people (and friends) along the way. Bob Wells is a real-life nomad, as is Charlene Swankie, who plays Swankie. Another nomad in the film is David, played by David Strathairn. We follow Fern as she travels the American West, working various jobs, and occasionally getting to know people. She takes to the life well; does she take to it too well, though?
Most of the nomads in the film are seniors, and it would be easy for a lesser writer-director to turn this into a road romantic comedy-drama. What Zhao is doing, though, is creating a modern day “Grapes of Wrath,” though; set in the years after the 2008 Great Recession, we’re getting the stories of people who have to travel and find ways to survive when the great American economy has failed them. Homes lost, incomes uncertain, and life purposes in flux. The key, and brilliance, of Zhao’s screenplay (which is adapting a non-fiction book by Jessica Bruder), however, is that it doesn’t condemn the nomad lifestyle, but the circumstances that have led people to it. It doesn’t show nomadic life as a glamorous lifestyle, though, as something people should aspire to; while there’s certainly something to be said for traveling for the sake of accumulating a wealth of experience, and seeing new places, and meeting new people, this isn’t the mythical idea of Western Expansion in the United States in the 19th Century, but people trying to survive, often because they have no other opportunities to do so. And yet, this is anything but a depressing film to watch; it’s too filled with life, humanity and beauty for that.
It’s safe to say that, at this point, Frances McDormand is one of our greatest living actors, right? I mean, her collaborations with husband Joel Coen and brother-in-law Ethan Coen basically put her into the pantheon even before she won her second Oscar, and the great performances along the way have simply cemented her status. I think her Fern is my second favorite role of hers after Marge Gunderson (“Fargo”). Fern is certain about what her life looks like, and accepting of it in a lot of ways. She takes to the nomad life like a fish in water, and when there’s a slight hint of a return to normalcy, it strikes her as difficult to process. She doesn’t really know how to be a part of a society like we know it anymore, although she assimilates well with the other nomads she meets, like Swankie and David. But that has its complications, especially when we get the impression that David might be interested in her romantically. Again, a lesser filmmaker would lean into that, but there’s more awkwardness later when he invites her to stay with his son’s family, which has just welcomed a new baby. And the clues we get are that David isn’t just staying for a bit to spend time with his grandson- he might have found the next chapter of his life, one he wants to share with Fern. He isn’t the only one trying to get Fern to stay a while- her sister has offered her a place to live, as well. Fern’s not ready for that, though, and the non-verbal acting McDormand does in this film is as good as anything she has ever done, because we know exactly what is going on. This might be my favorite performance of 2020.
Zhao’s film is a great tribute to humanity’s ability to adapt and endure, however difficult the transition is. Not everyone can do it, but those who can will find great beauty and opportunity in the path they travel. It’s a beautiful slice of Americana, shot by Joshua James Richards and scored by Ludovico Einaudi with emotional intimacy and poetry, but again, Zhao’s film isn’t entirely hopeful. The final scenes will likely hit you in the gut, especially if you’ve ever stood in a home that you couldn’t live in anymore, or a building where you spent a lifetime meeting people, putting your energies towards a job, only to have it abandoned when it isn’t worth keeping open for people who never stood in those areas, doing that work on a day-by-day basis. You don’t have to have experienced that for yourself to appreciate “Nomadland,” but if you have, prepare to have your emotions rattled.
