Nomadland- Review

By Nadia Ranaputri

Image credit: IMDB

Director: Chloé Zhao
Cast: Frances McDormand,
David Straithairn, Linda May, Swankie, Peter Spears, Bob Wells, Derek Endres.

Chloé Zhao has certainly made her mark in the film industry. Having started out with films like The Rider and Songs My Brothers Taught Me, Zhao is the latest director to bring her own unique vision to the screen. Seems like she has quite an impressive feat, taking this year's Awards Season by storm when she took home the award for Best Director and Best Motion Picture- Drama at the Golden Globes, not to mention her upcoming foray into the Marvel Universe with the much anticipated The Eternals. Her latest masterwork, Nomadland, draws on a topic that many may not know much about. It's not often that we get to see a portrayal of people whose lives consist of being on the road, balanced on a line between going nowhere and going somewhere, but as Zhao's film later proves, it's a life that is no short of meaning.

Nomadland is based on Jessica Bruder's non-fiction book, Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century, which in the light of the Great Recession, depicts the people who are essentially nomads, traveling and wandering on the road in vans around America in search of seasonal/short-term work. Zhao's latest film focuses on Fern (Frances McDormand), a widow who formerly worked in Empire, Nevada until it was promptly shut down, causing her to lose the very life that sourced her stability. Due to the closing of the company town, as well as the recent passing of her husband, Fern decides to take her chances and leave the comforts of her once stable life to live out in her van and venture into new territories, seeking various seasonal work; and in the process, a life that's constantly changing with every new place and opportunity.

Frances McDormand is a powerhouse, and she always has been. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri proved that wonderfully. In this one, McDormand carries the film with grace in a performance that like in Three Billboards, feels raw, it's brimmed with a hidden layer of despair and a sense of isolation. With the company of Zhao's already dazzling script, McDormand makes sure that every ounce of Zhao's script flourishes off the page in phenomenal fashion. Even in scenes where Fern doesn't say anything, her eyes convey a myriad of reserved emotions. There are scenes where her stares linger in a sense of melancholy, while her mouth stays silent. But there are also times where there's a spark of this comforting charisma that has an element of homeness or domesticity to it, such as when she slowly adapts to the life on the road, or when she meets other fellow nomads and starts opening up to them. ("I'm not homeless," as she corrects early on in the film, "I'm just houseless. Not the same thing, right? ") She imbues Fern with such a fervent and authentic performance, that I forgot I was watching an actress. David Straithairn is also a standout as Dave, one of the nomads that Fern runs into often. Straithairn balances out McDormand by adding in that much needed liveliness. Their frequent encounters lead to Dave's growing fondness towards Fern, and it plays out a little like something out of a rom-com, but cheekily low-key. It's just subtle enough to give the film some gaiety essence. 

Image credit: The MacGuffin

Nomadland is very slow paced. It may not be a typical portrayal of the American life, and it's one of those films where you don't really see a lot of things happening, but it still leaves a lasting mark. It plays out like life itself, it takes its sweet time. You get to see how Fern's life is depicted through the journey she goes through and the people she meets. Essentially, most of the film is just her on the road and encountering people that make a small but significant impact in her life. And the nomads she meets brings out moments of humanity and levity in a life that's always on the road. It's a deliberately slow character study, where you get so much of the main character through her silent emotions and her conversations with others. So much of the liveliness comes from the lasting encounters, and Fern's slow methodical process in overcoming grief that is enlightened piece by piece. Zhao's film really takes us by the hand and invites us to Fern's journey of self-discovery, like we're discovering her just as much as she is discovering herself. Every moment of pain, sorrow, happiness, Zhao is taking us through those moments, every step of the way. And similar to how Sound of Metal incorporates real deaf actors to portray the supporting characters, Nomadland has real nomads playing the role of the ones that Fern comes across. It adds a lot of authenticity to the film, and it does feel as if you're watching real people as opposed to just characters.

The cinematography by Joshua James Richards is stunning, it's incredibly simple, yet it doesn't make it any less interesting. In fact, it thrives in minimalism. It isn't looking to go all out on creating the most inventive visuals out there, but instead, it relishes the simplistic nature, and lets the landscapes and performances speak for itself. But simplicity doesn't always mean dull, and Richards uses minimalism to its full advantage. The craftsmanship behind the camera almost makes it feel as if you're in on the journey. It isn't just Fern, you're also along for the ride. It becomes a sort of first-hand experience, the people she meets, the lands she explores, it's like we're going through it too. The vast landscapes are beautifully captured, they give the film a boost in visuals. It rarely ever feels stuck down, the camera moves freely alongside Fern, and it makes it seem as if you're walking right beside her. As a result, it gave the film an immersive and atmospheric quality to it. Through the lens of Richards' cinematography, we see nomads on the road, their daily routines, and even moments of sorrow, like a gorgeous scene of a memorial to a fallen nomad, accompanied by Ludovico Einaudi's splendid score. Slowly, you start to realize that the visuals become one of the heroes of the story, it's playing as big of a part in the film as the story itself. It adds elements of heart, emptiness, and a sense of something uncertain but hopeful, almost like it's imitating the life of the nomads themselves.

Nomadland is not going to be for everyone. It can be a film that many will find boring and not finding much to it, and I can certainly understand that. You do feel the sluggish pace at times, so it's easy to see why people tune out. For me personally, it's a really interesting outlook into a life I don't know much about. It feels almost like a documentary of sorts, with Frances McDormand being the focal figure that leads us through her journey of becoming a nomad. It might be a somber film, but it also has its moments of humor and light-heartedness that prevented the film from being depressing. Chloé Zhao really made something intricate here. You can look at it as an experience as opposed to an actual film, because I think that's the best way to watch this film. It may not have much to say, but at the same time, it has a sense of comfort. It was almost like a cathartic experience for me. Imagine drifting into the cold at first, then you find yourself sinking into a lukewarm blanket with a steaming cup afterwards. That's how I would describe Nomadland. When one character says, "You know, I've met hundreds of people out here and I don't ever say a final goodbye. I always just say, "I'll see you down the road." And I do. And whether it's a month, or a year, or sometimes years, I see them again," it feels like a hug, inviting and warm, and it puts a smile on my face. It reminds you that while the world is big, there will always be people and moments, no matter how small or simple they are, that are worth cherishing in life. 

Image credit: IMDB

Overall verdict: Nomadland is a simplistic but dreamlike feature from Chloé Zhao. It shows an everyday life in the world that many may not even know, and it's a refreshing take on the portrayal of the American life. McDormand is a powerhouse in the lead role as Fern, as she carries the role with a gravitas. Her performance is filled with repressed emotions that slowly unravel throughout the film, and McDormand conveys this beautifully. There are scenes where Fern remains silent, but her eyes convey something else entirely. Much of the film consists of McDormand's Fern going on the road, but it's the things she finds along the way that fill in the gaps between and give the film its substance. It's these moments that give the film a breath of fresh air, adding a sense of levity and warmth. The people she meets, the lands she discovers, they all bring a slice of life into the film that prevent it from being too somber. The cinematography by Joshua James Richards is stellar, creating a minimal yet immersive atmosphere that almost makes us feel as if we're tagging along on the journey, whilst Ludovico Einaudi's score accompanies it perfectly in the background. Beneath all that, it's a film about self-discovery, and in a way, it's like a cathartic experience. Throughout her journey, Fern begins to adapt and open up to the life on the road, and eventually to the nomads she encounters. It's a quiet film, and there's something almost poetic about it, too. Nomadland is certainly not going to be for everyone, but for me personally, it's a stunner, and it makes me all the more excited to see what Zhao has in store for her next big feature, particularly that of Marvel Studios' The Eternals

Stars: 4.6/5

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