Directed By Chloe Zhao

Starring – Frances McDormand, Gay DeForest, Patricia Grier

The Plot – Following the economic collapse of a company town in rural Nevada, Fern (McDormand) packs her van and sets off on the road exploring a life outside of conventional society as a modern-day nomad. The film features real nomads Linda May, Swankie and Bob Wells as Fern’s mentors and comrades in her exploration through the vast landscape of the American West.

Rated R for some full nudity.

NOMADLAND | Official Trailer | Searchlight Pictures – YouTube

POSITIVES

– Intoxicating visuals. The shot photography from cinematographer Joshua Richards offers a consistency for breathtaking backgrounds and absorbing color that emanates through the lens in a naturalistic quality. So natural, in fact, that it’s that natural element of lighting within the environments documented in the film that leaves the aesthetic presentation feeling untouched by post production, giving us an experience that is as truthful in authenticity as it is radiant in eclipsing beauty. Most of the film takes place in the western side of America, particularly in the Arizona desert, complete with serenity in scenery that brings no shortage of mountains and endless isolation to grasp the idealism of a nomad. It attains a highly beneficial artistic integrity that emits itself in the form of these inescapable wide angle shots that preserve it as a character of its own within this slice of life that persists on the grandest stage that a film can can capture.

– Thought-provoking. Perhaps the single most beneficial aspect of the film for me was the revealing emphasis on the lifestyle of a Nomad, which is realized and contrasted throughout the many things we take for granted. On one end, the film is highly respectable in how it presents this lifestyle choice, preserving it with an element of adaptation and creativity that never hints at the suffering of their situation. On the other side, it zeroes in on some stern social commentary for audiences to indulge in, that forces us to confront this idea of living above our means, as well as re-examine the material things we deem as important. When we see them through the eyes of people who don’t have them, only then can we truly appreciate their convenience and value, and in this regard “Nomadland” is a poignantly beautiful captivation of stripped down ideals in a world run by consumerism and material greed.

– Savory subtlety. When this film is a character study between the nourishment of its visual pallet, the conveyance of information is one of the more pleasing elements to the film’s minimalist approach to screenplay that I can appreciate. Nothing is ever heavy-handed or obvious, instead attaining exposition in the form of conversations that allude to certain elements within the backstory of Fern, that we can piece together with just a general outline of what they illustrate. I love this because films anymore often fall off the tremendously thin line of subtle execution when it comes to the many plot and character points that they have to attain, but Zhao’s vantage in viewing these many characters as actual people instead of conveniences allows her to invest in them fruitfully in a way where the conversations and dialogue materialize naturally, making much of the film unpredictable to capture the spontaneity of life in all of its virtue.

– Meticulous adaptation. “Nomadland” is based off of the book of the same name by Jessica Bruder, and here it’s translated wonderfully with a couple of key moves that helps maintain the fluidity of structure most accessible between the pages that solidify those intimate details. Zhao’s direction is far above that of meandering narration, instead spending a little extra in order to accentuate the social sting of an economy hit by financial tragedy in 2011, the story’s setting. First off, she pays for the rights to market Amazon, complete with an inside look into the factory operations, which especially now can’t be cheap to use as a property in the film. Secondly, it’s Zhao and production’s decision to cast real life Nomads that earns a level of believability not only to their deliveries, but also in the tender care in direction that Chloe constantly maintains without demeaning those involved. It offers a stirringly rich narrative that isn’t just Fern’s story, but also those that live through it beyond the screen, occasionally feeling like a satisfying documentary for how it’s able to transcend fictional cinema.

– Fern is Frances. Is there a more immersive actress going today than that of McDormand, who once again dazzles us with a stripped-down, emotionally resonant performance as Fern that makes them feel nearly inseparable. Her delivery is reserved more for the streak of brilliance in her physical acting and overall body language that constantly zeroed in on her conscience that continuously outlined character motivation. In this regard, Frances can do in a look what takes less skilled actresses a thousand words to equally convey, and it brings us one of the more truly compelling performances of the year outlined by Fern’s emotional frailty, which feels tied to one particular event that has defined her life up to this moment. Throughout times of trepidation, compassion, and sheer sadness McDormand delivers a lived-in quality to Fern that exudes one of the more memorable turns from the gifted actress, and embodies a humanistic approach to the character that I greatly enjoyed with each passing minute.

– Expansive production. “Nomadland” was filmed in seven states during four months of filming, a feat that is rare for an independent film, but one that Zhao required in channeling the vigorous movements of the Nomad lifestyle, complete with moments of spontaneous turmoil. Aside from this being an obvious element within the context of the screenplay, it brilliantly conveys the changing of seasons that plays a pivotal role in Fern’s trivial first act, combing us through the need to find a place of her own where she can fit properly into the scheme of everyday routine. The locations chosen are vastly diverse enough visually to convey the miles traveled between Fern’s cross-country journey, and the particular locations within them scouted terrifically for the most eye-appealing landscapes bringing up exponential beauty that I previously mentioned. It’s a delight to think that a studio actually invested a little money in a quiet indie drama like this one, allowing it to better flesh out the vibrancy of environments that pertain to the direction it heads visually.

– Restraint. This could be the part that alienates a majority of its audience, or re-affirms the other side in defining what tonally about this film can’t be defined by a single word in genre classification. This is very much a film that doesn’t go out of its way to tug at the heartstrings in a gratuitous manner, instead it simply just tries to connect to the audience on a human level while offering momentary glimpses into a much bigger hidden picture that we never fully explore by film’s end. Speaking of which, I enjoyed the ending itself, even if it can be properly defined as an emphasis to the anti-climatic circumstance that it doesn’t escape, nor especially tries to run from. It’s arduously ambiguous, and full of realism in the element that life is a series of moments that continuously beats towards bigger meaning and purpose, feeling like an ending to one chapter in Fern’s life while another one vicariously begins.

– Place in time. “Nomadland” is very much a period piece, in that it revolves around the financial crisis of 2012 that sacrificed a lot of businesses and workers on its way towards one of the more uncertain times in American history. What’s enriching about this aspect isn’t that the film gets lost in a visual compass, complete with outdated props in frame that make you visually solidify this setting, but rather thematically resides in a butterfly effect of choices and consequences for Fern in particular that feels like one story in the many victims that such a crisis swallowed whole. So on one side it’s very much a character study about resiliency in the face of an entire world crumbling down around her, but on another it’s a social stinger that resonates on a bigger picture during a particular moment in time that is, for better or worse, unforgettable in the memories of many who lost everything because of such. Fern’s is just another one of these stories.

NEGATIVES

– Story frustrations. While it’s understandable that “Nomadland” is this slice of life movie that doesn’t beat to the drum of conventional storytelling that ties every movie together, the abundance of this 102 minute run time remains stagnantly purposeless, diminishing my interest periodically from ever investing in anything beyond Fern’s past, which the movie redundantly explores constantly throughout. This point, as well as the movie’s moral in general, seems to allude towards the idea that there’s no future in the past, and while that makes for an awesome bumper sticker, it isn’t the most compelling in terms of catchy hooks to reel anyone in beyond the gimmick of the plot itself. Fern herself never evolves or goes through any kind of arc, which limits her character on a performance only level that McDormand excels at, but it would’ve been better to learn more about the character of Fern herself, especially her family’s opinion of her, which requires more clarity to further solidify. By the film’s end, it’s a drama that never fully commits to exploring the vulnerability of her situation, leaving us without any stakes or circumstances that mount a consistency of momentum for the movie’s flailing pacing.

– Meandering musical score. It pains me with sorrow to bash the work of composer Ludovico Einaudi, whose scores in HBO’s “Sharp Objects” and 2010’s “Insidious” offered stark contrasts to the dominant genres they were inspired by, and gave us emotional depth in its use of unorthodox instruments and objects that weighed heavily to the uneasiness of the compositions. Unfortunately here, his work is very much sappy and insistent, held together by a formulaic level of piano heavy compositions that were cheesy and distracting on my view of the picture. It’s fine during sequences of obvious sadness, but a painful thorn during sequences of wonder and internal inspiration, and just kind of supplanted a moody experience to the film that was anything but genuine with the events depicted. It’s a stark contrast to the subtleties and nuances that Zhao’s direction earned in a transcending experience that occasionally gave the film a documentarian-esque quality to its storytelling, and makes much of what we’re left with audibly too on-the-nose to properly feel earned in the context of the scene and character.

My Grade: 8/10 or B+