Nomadland is an American classic, a masterpiece. Not just as a film but as a piece of art. Choe Zhao’s achingly tender story of modern nomads is as quintessentially American as a John Stenbeck story, or an Ansel Adams photograph, or a Georgia O’Keefe painting. There is something in this film that touches our core and speaks to us about who we are. Anyone watching Nomadland unmoved is genuinely more to be pitied than scorned.
On one level the film is a 21st century tragedy, on another it is an inspiration. Fern (Frances McDormand) has been recently widowed. Along with the loss of her soulmate comes the loss of her home when the company town she lived in effectively disappears; part of the inspiration for the film is the town of Empire, Nevada, whose postal code was discontinued as a result of globalisation.
Fern remains quietly undaunted. She makes the best of her situation, for example, pointing out to one former neighbour that she is not ‘homeless’ but ‘houseless’. The distinction speaks volumes for Fern’s character and the delivery of the line is a testament to McDormand’s peerless performance.
Fern takes to the road in search of seasonal work at an Amazon depot and begins to live in her van. Incidentally for those who claim that the picture portrayed of Amazon is too benevolent, see my comment earlier about more pitied than scorned. This is not a Michael Moore documentary, thank God, it is a film about dignity, humanity, and fellowship.
Finding friends everywhere she goes Fern discovers a sub-culture of modern American nomad who live on the road. These are not Kerouac style beatniks, they are simply people who, for one reason or another, have disconnected from the 21st century and found a life on their own terms. Most of the cast are drawn from these nomads which gives the film an air of authenticity.
Fern with her haunting melancholy undiminished is something of a participant observer in this community but she finds something in them to salve her soul and takes to the life of a nomad. Along the way she meets Dave (David Strathairn) potentially a kindred spirit, but not so much of a kindred spirit that would lead writer-director Zhao into the realms of cliche and convention.
Dave is the catalyst for a final act which reveals a little more about Fern and her relationship with friends and family. This could so easily have been a faux transcendent ending, instead – as she did in Three Billboards – McDormand offers us resolution rather than redemption.
Nomadland is a film about grief, and loss, and the consolation of humanity. It also speaks eloquently of the healing power of nature and the importance of recognising that our corporate culture is not the only way. It calls to mind Steinbeck – not so much The Grapes of Wrath for me as Travels with Charley – and reminds us that there may still be some decency left in the world.
The film looks magnificent, shot by Zhao’s usual cinematographer Joshua James Richards. His use of natural light – especially in the golden hour – and a gently roaming handheld camera produces glorious images which are perfectly complemented by Ludovico Einaudi’s score.
At the heart of this film is McDormand. As Fern she contributes one of the great performances in the history of American cinema. So much is non-verbal. One of her very first scenes, in which she briefly embraces her dead husband’s work jacket, sets down a marker for what is effectively a master class in screen acting to follow.
That scene with the jacket recalled for me the moment in The Searchers (1956) in which Martha briefly embraces Ethan Edward’s coat in a scene that mutely but eloquently charts their unspoken love. The Searchers in particular and John Ford’s work in general came back to me several times in Nomadland.
The obvious visual comparison is with the films of Terrence Malick, and I get that, but for me Ford – who directed Grapes of Wrath – is a better tonal comparison. Like Ford at his best Nomadland is peopled with characters so believably organic that they seem to have sprung from the very land they inhabit. It is a work of genius that should on no account be missed.
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