2021 Oscars Review: Nomadland
Fern (Frances McDormand) walking through the American frontier. McDormand is nominated for Best Actress at the 93rd Academy Awards.
Hi there! It’s Erin writing, and I’m here to review an expected winner of a few different Academy Awards this season—Chloe Zhao’s meditative and gorgeous Nomadland. This film explores one woman’s journey through life and the American West while living and traveling in a van. Nomadland is nominated for six Academy Awards, and has already nabbed the Golden Globes for Best Director and Best Motion Picture - Drama. Here is my spoiler-filled review!
“One of the things I love most about this life is that there’s no final goodbye. You know, I’ve met hundreds of people out here and I don’t ever say a final goodbye. I always just say, “I’ll see you down the road.” And I do. And whether it’s a month, or a year, or sometimes years, I see them again.”
As a member of the “inside cat” community, I thought that I would have a difficult time connecting to a film that focuses on the lives of modern nomads—people who spend the majority of their time outdoors and traveling the country with modest means. I like to think of myself as someone who is not materialistic, but who am I kidding? Just last week I gave my sister the stink eye when I found out that she had bought MORE aromatherapy lotions and body washes at the $6.50 Bath and Body Works sale without telling me. I could never imagine living the lives of Fern (Frances McDormand) and the other characters in this film (including a few real life modern nomads playing fictional versions of themselves, like Bob Wells and goddess Swankie), but their plights and feelings are universal.
This film, an adaptation of the book Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century by Jessica Bruder, explores a community in the aftermath of the economic collapse of the late aughts. After the death of her husband and the dissolution of her job and town, Fern hits the road in a van containing her pared-down belongings, meeting friends and working seasonal jobs along the way. It’s an extremely simple plot, with conflicts resembling the mundane problems of everyday life, like flat tires and differences of opinion with barbecue companions. Where Nomadland makes an impact, however, is with the undercurrent of human emotion that runs like a river as a throughline in the film: our friends experience grief, friendship, uncertainty. They feel powerless and yearn to find a connection with nature or people or SOMETHING. Many of the characters are at retirement age, and have chosen to break free of the expectations of the “living to work” philosophy, especially at a time in our country’s history when the riches of years of hard work seemed to disappear overnight.
This realization brings me to one of my struggles with Nomadland. So much of the film features people striving to escape those financial burdens that plagued and continue to affect so many. That’s why I was surprised that the film lacked much of a critique of those big corporations that have been the perpetrators of reports of terrible work environments and exploitative practices. The fact that Amazon allowed Nomadland to film in their warehouses and use their name just felt a little too much like a handshake and a promise for good press. When asked about her seasonal job later in the film, Fern keeps it short and benign, just mentioning that it was “good money.” Delving a little deeper into the struggles of difficult work for sub-standard pay for those well into their “golden years” would have made for a stronger narrative.
From my couch, one of Nomadland’s strengths is in the casting. Yes, of course we all know and love Frances McDormand, who plays a much more gentle and soft hearted character than you would imagine from some of her most famous roles (see: Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri). But it’s a whole 'nother ball game when you see the earnestness in Swankie’s eyes and the joy radiating from Linda May as she jokes around with Fern to realize that sometimes the most compelling performances come from those who truly believe in what they are speaking. Chloe Zhao is known for casting first-timers in her films, and it creates a beautiful authenticity to this movie.
There is also a fascinating dichotomy between the gorgeous natural scenery of the West with the old, bare bones of the vans in which the characters are living. This polarity is especially apparent when it’s presented side-by-side with another set of opposites. Throughout the film, Fern laughs, smiles, and connects with others. You truly feel like she finds “her people” everywhere she goes. She even makes a connection with David, a fellow nomad, and you find yourself rooting for that relationship. Still, Fern also deals with a sort of isolation, missing her late husband, refusing to take in an abandoned dog at one of her stops. She is alone, but time and time again, CHOOSES that path. Is it a sad ending when Fern decides to abandon her second chance at love and heads back on the road by herself? Or is that just us pushing our own wishes and expectations on another person? Yes, we may think that Fern is a lost soul, and that it will just take the right person or place or situation for her to be happy to stay in one spot. But it is just as possible that your aunt’s trip to the Hobby Lobby and the resulting over-decorated accent wall statement piece is right: Not all who wander are lost.
Rating: 8.5/10