Nomadland (2020) is about human decency. At the same time, this movie is a condemnation of capitalism, its failures, and the negative impacts it had on working Americans' lives during the Great Recession. From the laidback yet never tedious pacing that balances both the traveling nomads' touching and often heartwrenching testimonies that play out more like a documentary instead of a staged drama and Frances McDormand's character of Fern's journey across the United States taking up various jobs at places like an Amazon fulfillment center to a camp host at the Cedar Pass Campground located in South Dakota's Badlands National Park. What follows is a slow-paced albeit visually stunning and thematically thought-provoking journey that both shines a light on the social and economic inequalities that make up part of why this country is so systemically divided and compassionately gives voice to the everyday working citizens of this country.
Nomadland follows Fern (played by McDormand), a widowed working woman who, after her husband passes away and the US Gypsum plant in her town of Empire, Nevada shuts down during the Great Recession in 2011, purchases a van and travels the country as a "houseless" nomad. Along the way, she moves around from place to place while meeting and bonding with real-life nomads, who share their life experiences and common humanity for each other.
McDormand's naturalistic performance is empathetic, nuanced, and one that was absolutely worth the Best Actress win at the 2021 Oscars. Chloe Zhao's emotionally intimate direction, screenplay, and editing, combined with Joshua James Richards' expansive and visually enthralling cinematography, create a documentary-esque experience that leaves the audience both contemplating their role in a capitalist society where the well-off go about their day without thinking about those affected by corporate greed and the ultra-wealthy's exploitation of everyday workers and their communities like the abandoned town of Empire, Nevada. Also, the appearances from real-life nomads like Linda May, Swankie, and Bob Wells telling fictionalized versions of their life stories, enhance the overall story without coming across as forced or awkward.
The movie is thematically profound in its visuals, especially in its capturing of natural rock formations. There is one sequence where Fern runs through a valley of rock formations in Badlands National Park, which is not only impeccably shot and framed but also serves as a profound metaphor for how astronomically small humans are compared to the vastness and scope of this Earth's natural beauty, and how we are all merely temporary occupants who cannot comprehend its true majesty, and how much of it has been squandered and destroyed over the centuries. The fact that much of it has been cleared for the advancement of humans' industrialized society says a lot about our desire to play God over everything they can see without thinking twice about the long-term consequences for future generations.
"See you down the road." That casual yet heartwarming phrase used by the nomads is truly profound, especially when considering its philosophical implications on what makes humanity so unique. Wherever the road takes humanity, the shared sense of community and empathy for one another that the nomads in this movie is something that should never be taken for granted, and is what makes every human being's life that walks the face of this Earth both precious and irreplaceable. Nomadland is bound to become a modern classic someday down the road.
Comments