Initially, it is a confusion trying to figure out Fern’s end goal that will keep a viewer attentive to watch if she reaches her goal at the end. I was always told that intention and obstacles are the keys to a good story. However, that belief eventually vanished because the cinematography, characters, and lifestyle move you more than enough. I found myself in sympathy for the community because of the lack of resources and tools but also an admiration for them because they are content with everything that they have and do not want more. Zhao does a good job of hitting her viewers with emotions before you even know it. She breaks rules and does not pay attention to the norms in Hollywood and definitely translated that in the film. Many critiques I’ve read vary from describing Nomadland as boring and purposeless. However, if you pay enough attention to the testimonies and historical data about the damage to Empire, Nevada and its people, it will anger and fascinate you to be in awe of the nomads because of how they still make ends meet with simply just a van, a map, and a sense of adventure. You can sense the desire of escaping to feel alive from the characters. I admired how the story showcased their struggles in a subtle yet impactful way from Fern pooping in a bucket in her van to Swankie living her best life in the leftover time that cancer allocated her. The scene that shifted my perspective from admiration to sympathy was when Fern was confronted by her sister about going back on the road when she can just live with her. Seeing Fern’s discomfort with anything that stays settled such as a house enabled me to sympathize with her because she is just trying to escape the grief and trauma from being a widow and seeing her home in Empire, Nevada vanish. My sympathy heightened even more when she was visiting a friend and stayed over for Thanksgiving but couldn’t sleep in the guest room due to discomfort and slept in her van instead. It’s a lifestyle that they can’t escape even if they tried. Before you know it, the characters eventually look weak and fragile. You sympathize for their yearning for completion even if that means going into the unknown. Nomadland puts a tick in you that stays silent until the last shot and it explodes because of how much awe you’re in for Fern and the simple knowledge that everyone is just trying to escape their demons whether you live in a penthouse in Beverly Hills or in an old van in the middle of the desert in Arizona.