If you’ve ever griped about the 40-hour workweek or the cultural dominance of Zoom calls, Nomadland will prove more than just an interesting thought experiment. Adapted from journalist Jessica Bruder’s non-fiction book, Nomadland tracks a growing collection of older Americans who wander the United States, with extremely paired down possessions, supporting a transient lifestyle with occasional seasonal work. The appeal of this counterculture protest to consumerism is freedom and camaraderie within these roaming communities.
With a growing list of awards already under its belt, Nomadland looks next to the Golden Globes, where it is currently nominated for Best Picture Drama. It’s guaranteed to be a top contender at the Academy Awards, thanks a captivating performance by Frances McDormand and steady directorial flair from writer-director Chloé Zhao.
Zhao, already a beloved indie director, brings dynamism to the film. It’s marketed as an IMAX screening for a reason. She juxtaposes the wide, sweeping shots of the American West with tight closeups and claustrophobic interiors of our characters’ homes-on-wheels. The pacing of Nomadland may test the endurance of some viewers. Like its subjects, the film deliberately meanders, but it never feels indulgent or monotonous. This command of the camera may or may not come in handy for Zhao’s next project—an ambitious, operatic space franchise for our current cultural monolith, Marvel Studios. (Seriously.)
McDormand is likely on her way to a third Oscar for her portrayal of Fern. Never one-note in her performance, Fern is a confounding mixture of steeliness, despondence, and tenacity. Fern’s pride routinely prevents her from accepting comforts that would obviously make life easier. While she is defiantly committed to the nomad lifestyle, she can also be rash and impulsive. She often seems to be winging it, clearly chasing an inner desire that she struggles to articulate.
Amplifying this experience is the smart decision to fill much of the supporting cast with actual modern-day nomads. McDormand—and by extension, the audience—is surrounded by and interacting with real people playing versions of themselves. We spend time in these communities, observing the lives for which these individuals have built and sacrificed. This lends the film a crucial layer of authenticity and human connection.
Fern’s journey asks us to reexamine those many decisions in life made simply because we are playing a Game of Life that feels predetermined, even unavoidable. Fern and the nomads display a bravery and honesty by committing to a life as uncompromised as possible. They sympathize with others who lack the desire (or the imagination) to buck that endless cycle of Work, Sleep, Repeat. Set in the aftermath of the Great Recession, the film is especially critical of anyone reaping financial rewards off those stuck in such a cycle. (At one point, Fern decries her mortgage lender brother-in-law as duping people into debt-ridden lives). It may not be an especially nuanced, or even fair, assessment of our economies of scale, but she’s also not wrong. The film serves as a mirror, allowing us to question our complacency, our concessions and compromises, to acquire our own American Dream. Fern clashes with family members who are mystified by her decisions, but ultimately her goal is the same as anyone else’s: to live unapologetically in her pursuit of serenity.
Nomadland is currently available to stream on Hulu. It runs 107 minutes and is rated R for some nudity.
