Nomadland Review (TIFF 2020)

PLOT: An Itinerant worker (Frances McDormand) wanders the American West in her run-down RV, trying to eke out a living while finding support from a whole generation of middle-aged workers who’ve found themselves in a similar predicament thanks to a world which, seemingly, has disregarded them.

REVIEW: NOMADLAND starts with a sobering statistic. A town called Empire, located in Nevada, was owned by U.S Gypsum, but when the gypsum plant closed its doors amid the recession, residents, who lived in company-owned homes, had to leave en masse, resulting in it becoming a defacto ghost town, with even its zip code being deactivated. Chloe Zhao’s film, which is based on a non-fiction book by Jessica Bruder, follows a former Empire resident named Fern (Frances McDormand), whose husband, a lifer with U.S Gypsum, has died. Forced to leave the company home she lived in for decades, she packs up her run-down RV in search of work. This mainly consists of taking temporary jobs at places like the Amazon Warehouse for the Christmas rush, while otherwise living by her wits on the road as she travels from town to town.

For those not in the know, director Chloe Zhao, who previously helmed the acclaimed drama THE RIDER, is directing MARVEL'S ETERNALS, and it’s incredible to me that Zhao managed to pull off what I honestly think is the best American film of the year in the midst of working on that massively budgeted tentpole. A quasi-documentary, McDormand and co-star David Strathairn are the only professional actors in the cast, with Zhao casting the rest of the leads from the actual community of “Nomads” who roam what’s left of the American West in search of work.

These folks, all of whom seem to be over sixty, haven’t got the option of ever really retiring. Living in poverty, they’ve mostly cashed-in their savings to buy these RV’s, which they can live in between jobs, with the idea being that at their worst, living on the road can be done very cheaply. While apolitical in terms of a red vs blue (no one ever discusses politics), it does try to shine a light on the way that a whole generation of laborers have been left virtually homeless by the way industry has fled much of America. Older, middle-aged workers are the ones most unlikely to be able to re-train and start new careers. They have little option but to try and live as cheaply as they can – hence the RV’s, with one nomad using the analogy that they’re like lifeboats on the Titanic.

Frances McDormand once again reinforces the fact that she’s the greatest actress of her generation through her role as Fern. Resolute and self-reliant, neither Zhao nor McDormand ever go for a saccharine tone. Fern doesn’t want your sympathy or your charity. She’s doing what she needs to do and, while bittersweet, NOMADLAND is never depressing in that it celebrates the spirit of these Nomads, who could have rolled over and died but, instead, have simply done what they’ve needed to do to survive, leaning on each other for community and support.

A relative newbie to the lifestyle, Fern relies on three real-life nomads for support, Linda May, Swankie, and Bob Wells. All three have incredible moments where they reveal their challenges on the road, with Swankie in particular stealing scenes, although Wells has perhaps the film’s most heartbreaking moment as he reveals some of the personal tragedy his family has experienced. David Strathairn plays Fern’s love interest, another older Nomad who keeps working his way into her orbit, hoping the two can have some kind of life together, although Fern’s too heartbroken from her husband’s death to consider it.

Zhao’s aesthetic is incredible, with gorgeous panoramas of the western landscape by DP Joshua James Richards. While episodic by design, the film is utterly compelling from the first frame to the last, and it’s among the most impressive films made in the U.S in recent years. In some ways, with COVID-19 having made us all a little more introspective and (hopefully) empathetic than usual, Zhao’s film is coming out at an opportune moment. It’s a bracing, enlightening, and ultimately hopeful look at a kind of life very few of us would have the guts to live, and perhaps the only film that’s come out in 2020 (so far) that could legitimately be called a masterpiece.