Review: Nomadland

Image courtesy of Searchlight Pictures.

Chloe Zhao's "Nomadland" finds poetry and beauty in the dilapidated towns hollowed out by the 2008 financial crisis and economic downturn as well as some stunning vistas of the American West in telling the tale of Fern (Frances McDormand) and a group of modern day nomads who roam from town to town, often living out of their vans or trailers and finding work where they can.

On the surface, it might sound like Fern's life is a tragedy. Her backstory is certainly one that is likely to gain your empathy: When the gypsum plant where her husband worked for decades in Empire, Nevada closed in 2011, it put everyone in the area out of work, and the town's zip code even disappeared shortly thereafter. Then, Fern's husband died, leaving her alone and without enough money to maintain their small home.

So, Fern takes to the road, working seasonal hours at an Amazon distribution center and picking up work where she can along the road in the Dakotas, Arizona and other parts of the western and Pacific northwestern areas of the United States. Along the road, she continually bumps into other vagabonds. But while Fern's story might sound like a sad one, it's strangely not a depressing one. Once we've settled into the film's beautifully melancholic and somber rhythm, we recognize that Fern lives the nomadic lifestyle primarily out of choice and on her own terms. When given the opportunity to settle down elsewhere - several offers are made - she prefers the lifestyle on the road.

One of the elements that makes "Nomadland" so interesting - and why it often feels like a docudrama - is that other than McDormand and David Strathairn, a fellow nomad who has somewhat of a crush on Fern, most of the rest of the cast is made up of actual nomads, playing themselves to an extent, who were featured in the book - Jessica Bruder's 2017 nonfiction tome "Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century" - on which the picture was based. 

There is no Fern in Bruder's book - her character is an amalgam of various people who live the lifestyle - but Linda (Linda May), an older woman who acts as a mentor of sorts on the nomadic lifestyle for Fern; Swankie (Charlene Swankie), a woman with cancer who wants to make it to Alaska one last time; and Bob (Bob Wells), a kindly man who looks like Santa Claus and hosts an annual gathering of nomads to give them tips on how to survive on the road, are all characters who were featured in some way in the book.

While "Nomadland" has some political commentary to be found within - especially regarding how in America citizens work their whole lives, often for little to show for it, and end up being discarded once they are no longer able bodied and have the ability to contribute to the workforce, and often left behind - it's not an overtly political film. The film is set in 2011 and 2012, and the aftershocks of the 2008 economic meltdown are ever present. But the film is equally about the concept of finding peace with oneself, and how that concept can vary among people.

For example, after Fern's van breaks down, she takes a trip to see her well-established sister, who has sympathy for Fern's dedication to the nomadic lifestyle, but also wants her to come live with her and her husband. Strathairn's character is only partially dedicated to the nomadic lifestyle, and when an opportunity arises for him to live under a roof - a birth in the family - he takes it, and seems genuinely surprised when Fern rebuffs an offer to get off the road for awhile herself. This should come as no surprise. In an early scene, Fern finds a stray dog, but decides not to keep it. It's not that she doesn't like others - she's obviously very close to Linda and enjoys Dave's (Strathairn) company - but it seems that after the loss of her husband, she doesn't want to get tied down to anyone.

That "Nomadland" is such a piercing, insightful and moving work is pretty astounding. It bears similarity to Zhao's previous picture, the bull riding drama "The Rider," in terms of style, locations and tone. But what makes it amazing is that Zhao, who has done a better job of chronicling the lower class lives of the American West than most U.S. directors of recent years (with the exception of Debra Granik, whose "Winter's Bone" and "Leave No Trace" are in Zhao's distinguished company), was born in China. She has claimed this territory as her own and left an indelible mark.

There are moments in "Nomadland" that are beautiful enough to take your breath away - notably, gorgeous sunsets, rocky crags in the Dakotas, a photo taken of the world's loneliest dinosaur at a rundown theme park and a late night piano playing session. There's visual poetry in the film, but also actual poetry - a former student of Fern's touchingly recalls a passage that Fern, who was once a substitute teacher, taught her, while Fern herself recites a few stanzas from "Romeo & Juliet" to a young nomad who doesn't know what to write to his girlfriend.

Perhaps, the loveliest concept of "Nomadland" is one relayed by Bob Wells, who tells a heartbreaking story of how he ended up living the nomadic lifestyle, and notes that what he likes about the way of life is that there's never a "final goodbye" between fellow travelers. He just tells them, "See you on down the road," and he often ends up doing so when he least expects it. 

Fern also lives by this mantra - after living a life for decades that seemed safe only to come unraveled by economic forces beyond her control, her simpler lifestyle in which every new vista feels like an adventure and there are fewer things to latch onto, and possibly lose, seems more appealing. "Nomadland" is a deeply meaningful film that, like an old friend, I can see myself revisiting and catching up with again somewhere on down the road.