Jenn Marlow

Nomadland can be described as a docu-movie. Based on true events and real people, it mixes professional actor/esses with some of the real life modern day nomads on which the film is based. Upon first watching it, I felt that it wasn’t working as either genre: it wasn’t informative enough to be documentary and it didn’t have the kind of narrative arc that we are accustomed to in Hollywood movies. In the end, I decided, it is a poem. A work of art. I’m not entirely convinced that the film achieves what it set out to do—namely, help viewers achieve a better understanding of nomad life (I’m basing this on brief interviews that I watched with the author of the book upon which the film is based, Jessica Bruder, and the filmmaker Chloé Zhao). As I am often left feeling with poems, so I was left feeling with Nomadland: I just wanted so much more of it. As with poems, so much of the film is left open to interpretation, and I was left grasping onto the few very small clues I was given in terms of trying to better understand Fern. In addition to the more obvious clues, though, we are given Frances McDormand’s incredible performance in which so much is portrayed silently through her face, which rarely smiles, and her eyes—often sad and tired. Additionally, the cinematography and music both lend abundant information in terms of being able to read/understand the film. In the end though, the only thing clear-cut is Fern’s insistence upon remaining “free” and on the open road. Whether or not viewers come away from the film with a better understanding of the nomad life is going to depend entirely on the viewer. One could argue that such is the case for any movie—all of which are creations whose final message cannot be controlled by the creator, but I would say this is the far more the case with a film like Nomadland with its sparse dialogue and quick-cutting scenes that often feel incomplete. If the film was to act as a long, stunning, compelling trailer for the book, then that certainly worked. The film left me researching Bob Wells, Empire Nevada, and Bruder’s book, which I now want to read. This movie is slow, meditative, beautifully shot and acted. And while nothing much happens, I could not stop watching it. I appreciated all that it defied in terms of what we might expect from a Hollywood movie (even if at times it drove me batty—like just finish a scene will you!?!?), because ultimately the people the film is about are defying expectations of consumer culture and societal expectations about what it means to be satisfied with one’s life. Nomadland will, I believe, stay with me for a very long time.