"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Nomadland (2020, R)

Very unique film, both in terms of subject and presentation. This Best Picture nominee isn’t quite like anything I’ve seen before, even as there’s simultaneously something very familiar about it. A bleak, beautifully-effective way to tell its story.

Amid the Great Recession, Fern’s life changes radically. When the lodestone industry of her town picks up and moves out, the town withers. Finding herself houseless (not homeless – she makes the distinction,) she renovates her van for living and sets off down the road, moving across the country to follow jobs where she can find them and discovering a new community along the way.

The most novel aspect of this film is the fact that, apart from Frances McDormand, David Strathairn, and a very few others, the cast is made up of genuine American “nomads.” If you look at the cast list on IMDb, most of the characters bear the same names as the people who play them. The film definitely isn’t a documentary, but it can have the feel of one at times. The people Fern meets, learns from, and works with on her travels display a real, lived-in authenticity to the way of life they represent, and the blurry line between fact and fiction heightens the stories they tell about their lives. Chloé Zhao scored nominations for both her directing and her writing (in the Adapted Screenplay category,) and it’s easy to see why. What’s accomplished here is a masterful feat of human storytelling, and her empathetic eye paints her subjects with dignity. Even as they’re talking about what size bucket to use as a toilet in their van, they’re shown as fully human, people with struggles and treasures, jokes and tragedies, love and ingenuity.

The story wanders along with Fern as she learns the ropes of nomadic living. We follow her to a desert meetup, where old hats teach newcomers the tips and tricks they need to keep themselves alive on their own. We see her going where the jobs are, factories and parks and farms. We see people weave in and out of her life, sometimes popping back up where she least expects to find them. In this way, we see her forging her own path but also becoming part of a large, nebulous community.

I think this is a very quintessentially-American film. There’s of course the sea-to-shining-sea aspect of its locales, with sweeping frontier landscapes, endless highways, and rugged coastlines captured in all their stark beauty – the nomination for Best Cinematography is well-earned. There’s also that sense of dogged individualism and independence, with nomads declaring that they couldn’t imagine living away other way and one character noting that Fern embodies a “pioneer” spirit. But running underneath that independence are the reasons why these people had few options other than nomadic living: the collapse of the housing market and the economy, the decades-long erosion of pensions, the inadequacy of social security. Salt-of-the-earth Americans being thrust into poverty through indifferent policy decisions? As American as the pioneers, as American as Mount Rushmore.

Frances McDormand picked up a nomination for Best Leading Actress as Fern. It’s a very subtle performance, naturalistic to the most of virtually disappearing into the story. She’s really excellent here, and I’m glad she got recognized for it – performances like this are easy to get lost in the shuffle of big dramatic monologues or breakdowns or biopic mimicry. The non-actors who populate the majority of the cast acquit themselves well, interacting with McDormand in ways that feel raw and natural.

Warnings

Language, some gross-out stuff, drinking/smoking, brief nudity, and strong thematic elements (including references to suicide.)

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