NOMADLAND: FILM REVIEW
Chloé Zhao’s Nomadland’s message is clear: no one really has their shit together, and even when you’re older, things don’t always fall into place. Jobs, relationships, and homes aren’t permanent, and the only thing that matters is your own self-fulfillment.
Nomadland takes place after the 2008 financial crisis devastated America, which left one city ceasing to exist. On January 31, 2011, a gypsum manufacturer, USG Corporation, closed its doors in Empire, Nevada. By July, the company town was vacant after nearly a hundred people lost their jobs. After losing her town and husband, the film's main character, Fern (Frances McDormand), tries her hand at being a modern-day nomad searching for home in the vast American west.
More often than not, I’ve personally dreamt of going off the grid, driving somewhere out West, and cutting all ties. But, Nomadland isn’t an escapist fantasy. It’s a cautionary tale on aging, labor, and what we value most. As a viewer, I admire Fern’s strength and resiliency to make the most of life, but I hope to never end up like her. At the same time, I crave the same freedom nomads like Fern have. It’s beautiful to watch them not be confined to a job, a marriage, or a house.
From the scorching desert to the bitter cold, Fern lives out of her second-hand van. Her severe environment reflects her tumultuous emotions. She works odd jobs for short periods of time, hopping from one place to the next. Fern reminds me of a teenager, not knowing what to do with her life and waiting for a paycheck. The film doesn’t dive into her past, but I imagine that Fern never got to explore her options when she was younger. She was perfectly content. Although I don’t think too much about getting older anymore (it’s terrifying), I do ask myself: what am I going to do for the rest of my life? Work can’t be all there is, right?
Nomadland teeters on the edge of documentary because many of its elements are based on true events. The film was inspired by Jessica Bruder’s 2017 non-fiction book, Nomadland: Surviving America. So, if the people in Nomadland feel real, it’s because they are. The only character who wasn’t in the book is Fern, who is played by Frances McDormand, who also produced the film. Zhao continued her tradition of working with non-actors so most of the nomads and cast reflected the same people in the book. Bruder, who spent three years reporting the story, held a small consulting role in the film's production and assisted Zhao and production staff with visual and contextual elements. Zhao is the first woman to be nominated for best director, screenwriter, editor, and best picture at the same time. At this year’s Golden Globes, Zhao was the first woman of Asian descent to win Best Director and the second woman to win the title since 1984.
At its core, Nomadland represents the futility of the American dream. The film doesn’t follow a typical narrative structure where the main character has a realization or a breaking point. Instead, it’s a glimpse into the life of a woman who perpetually is trying to understand herself at the same time as the audience is. In comparison to tropes where a female main character tries to have it all, Fern tries to have nothing. What she finds at the campground are other women—Swankie and Linda—who show her the ropes of this new lifestyle. The three of them have no husband or children to take care of them; they only have each other. Although the women are complex, none adhere to a common trope. They're not the Golden Girls either. Typically, stories conclude a woman's journey with marriage or children, but Fern begins anew after her husband's death.
When I was young, I was constantly asked: What do you want to be when you grow up? I always hated being asked that question. A career was never my endgame, and Nomadland reminded me to appreciate the little things, no matter how cliché that may seem.
When Fern revisits Empire towards the end of the film, we see her walking through the abandoned factory and her former home. You can see the pain in her eyes as she realizes this is all she had in life. Although sometimes I think I can plan out my entire life, I remember that I’ve never met anyone who had that work out for them. At the same time, I have a fear of looking back at the end of my own journey and regretting it.
As the film captures a year in Fern’s life, there are no dramatic moments of revelation. Rather, it’s the little things that made her realize where she went wrong. Like Fern, we should all remember our inner nomads; we owe it to ourselves to carve our own path, taking in the sights and sounds, embracing life as it comes.