“People want to be accommodated,” wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson. “Only to the extent that they are uncertain is there any hope for them.” This tension between stability and uprooting, between the illusory comforts of home and the risky bait of the open road, is at the heart of “Nomadland”, Chloé Zhao’s third expansive and intimate characteristic.
Based on Jessica Bruder’s lively and thoroughly reported book of the same name, “Nomadland” stars Frances McDormand as Fern, a fictional former resident of a former royal place. The film begins with the end of the Empire, Nev., A business city that officially ceased to exist in late 2010, following the closure of the local plaster mine and the Sheetrock plant. Fern, a widow, takes the highway in a white van that she names Vanguard and personalizes with a sleeping alcove, a kitchen area and a storage space for the few memories of her previous life. Fern and Vanguard join a dispersed and undulating tribe – a subculture and literal movement of itinerant Americans and their vehicles, an unstable nation within the borders of the USA
Bruder’s book, which unfolds in the wake of the Great Recession, emphasizes the economic turmoil and social displacement that drives people like Fern – middle-aged and older; middle class, more or less – to the road. Recovering from unemployment, broken marriages, lost pensions and collapsing residential values, they work long hours in Amazon warehouses during winter holidays and poorly paid passes to national parks in the summer months. They are loose, but also desperate, squeezed by growing inequality and a worn-out safety net.
Zhao softens some of these social criticisms, focusing on the practicalities of vagabond life and the personal qualities – resilience, solidarity, economy – of his followers. Except for McDormand and a few others, almost everyone in “Nomadland” is playing versions of themselves, having made the slightly magical transition from the non-fiction page to the non-documentary screen. They include Bob Wells, the magnificent beard mentor for legions of van dwellers, who summons them to an annual conclave – part cultural festival, part self-help seminar – in Quartzsite, Arizona. Swankie, an intrepid kayak, problem solver and nature lover; and Linda May, a central figure in Bruder’s book who almost steals the film as Fern’s best friend.
Friendship and solitude are the poles between which Zhao’s film oscillates. It has a loose and episodic structure and a climate of subtle hardness that corresponds to the ethos it explores. Zhao, who edited “Nomadland”, in addition to writing and directing, sometimes dwells on majestic western landscapes and sometimes cuts quickly from one detail to the next. As in “The Rider”, her 2018 film about a rodeo cowboy in South Dakota, she is attentive to the interaction between human emotion and geography, the way space, light and wind reveal character.
It captures the excitement and boredom of Fern’s days – long hours behind the wheel or on a job; interruptions caused by weather, interpersonal conflict or vehicle problems – no rush or drag. “Nomadland” is patient, compassionate and open, motivated by an impulse to wander and observe instead of judging or explaining.
We ended up discovering that Fern has a sister (Melissa Smith), who helps her out of trouble and praises her as “the most courageous and honest” member of her family. We believe those words because they also apply to McDormand, whose courage, empathy and discipline have never been more evident. I do not want to suggest that this is an exhibition of acting techniques to request prizes, the bravery of a movie star personifying an ordinary person. Quite the opposite. Much of what McDormand does is listen, giving moral and emotional support to non-professional actors as they tell their stories. Her skill and sensitivity help to persuade you that what you are seeing is not only realistic, but true.
Which leads me, with some reluctance, to David Strathairn, who plays a wandering fellow named Dave. He’s a soft-spoken, gray-haired guy who catches Fern’s attention and gently tries to win over his affection. His attempts to be useful are clumsy and not always well evaluated – he offers her a bag of licorice sticks when what she wants is a pack of cigarettes – and although Fern likes him, her feelings are decidedly mixed.
Mine too. Straitharn is a wonderful actor and an intriguing, non-toxic male presence, but the fact that you know that as soon as you see him is a problem. Our first glimpse of Dave, coming into focus behind a box of can openers at an improvised exchange fair, is close to a spoiler. The vast horizon of Fern’s story suddenly threatens to contract in a conspiracy. He promises – or threatens – that a familiar narrative will take over Fern and the film.
To some extent, “Nomadland” wants to be colonized – it doesn’t necessarily want to tame its heroine, but at least to double its journey in a more or less predictable arc. At the same time, and with a good Emersonian spirit, the film rebels against its own conventional impulses, gravitating towards an idea of experience that is more complicated, more open, more contradictory than most American films are willing to allow. .
Zhao’s view of the west includes breathtaking rock formations, ancient forests and expansive views of the desert – as well as frozen parking lots, garbage-filled campsites and soulless, cavernous workplaces. Against the backdrop of Badlands or an Amazon call center, an individual can shrink to almost anything. Nomadic existence is both a recognition of human impermanence and a protest against it.
Fern and her friends are united by both the experience of loss and the spirit of adventure. Many of the stories they share are filled with sadness. It is difficult to describe the mixture of sadness, admiration and gratitude that you feel in their company – in the company of Fern and through your eyes and ears. It’s like discovering a new country, which you may want to visit more than once.
Nomadland
Classified as R. Living hard and talking like that too. Execution time: 1 hour and 48 minutes. In theaters and Hulu. Consult the guidelines outlined by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention before watching movies in theaters.