‘Nomadland’ is a slow, quiet film that speaks volumes
Tammye Nash | Managing Editor
nash@dallasvoice.com
I watched Nomadland last November. And I have been trying to figure out how to write a review of the movie ever since — not because I am at all ambivalent about the movie, but because it seems wrong to get too wordy in telling you about a movie that is exactly the opposite of wordy.
I could just say this is an outstanding movie, and you should watch it. But that would be a cop out. I could go into detail about the story, the actors, the direction, the cinematography. But that, I believe, would be doing a disservice to a movie that is so eloquently quiet.
The movie is based on Jessica Bruder’s 2017 book Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century, her memoir of the time she spent with the (mostly older) men and women who have adopted a transient lifestyle, living in their vans or RVs, following seasonal jobs from place to place or, for some, just going wherever the spirit takes them.
Frances McDormand and Peter Spears optioned the book for film, and Chloé Zhao wrote the screenplay and directed the film.
Nomadland is the story of Fern, a woman who loses, first, her husband to disease and then her home to a company’s economic collapse. When the gypsum plant in the town where Fern lives closes down, the town it gave birth to closes down as well. While other residents move to other towns, Fern just moves. And doesn’t stop moving.
At first, it’s easy to feel sorry for Fern: She’s lost the love of her life; she’s lost her home, and she has no one she’s close to. She is, it seems, just lost, adrift in loneliness, with nowhere to go and no one who cares. Fern herself seems to feel the same way.
But as the movie goes along, at its own slow, deliberate pace, Fern (and the viewer with her) come to realize that being alone isn’t the same as being lonely, that you don’t have to have a house to have a home and that loving someone doesn’t necessarily mean spending your life with them.
In fact, at the beginning of the film, Fern tells a young girl, a former student, not to worry about her because, “I’m not homeless; I’m just houseless. It’s not the same thing.” The rest of the movie basically explains what that means and why it’s not a bad thing.
McDormand stars as Fern, and I really can’t imagine any other actor who could have played the part. She is amazing, embracing Fern’s silence and solitude completely. Her face alone tells you more than pages full of dialog could have.
The only other face you are likely to recognize is that of David Strathairn who co-stars as David, another nomad who becomes romantically interested in Fern.
But the characters that will stay with you long after the movie ends — besides McDormand as Fern — are the real nomads who, basically, play themselves in the movie. Linda May, Swankie, Bob Wells, Derek and Peter become Fern’s scattered family, teaching her to find herself by getting lost, to find the stillness by moving.
Nomadland is the kind of movie that will stay with you long after it is over, one that will wake up your restless spirit while at the same time offering a sense of being home.
Nomadland, which already has won a number of awards, including two Golden Globes this week, opens in theaters and on Hulu Friday, March 5.
