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Nomadland (2020)
As a rhetorical meme, the word Nomadland (2020) evokes images of displaced people wandering across unfriendly landscapes. First appearing as a book called Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century (2017), it is no surprise that the film version is about surviving in a post-GFC world under the shattered moral compass and aberrant political climate of Trump’s America.
It’s a simple story that meanders from a perfect storm towards a dismal future. Fern (Frances McDormand) recently lost her husband to cancer, her job disappeared when the town’s only factory collapsed, and her home place of Empire in Nevada became so deserted that its zip code was cancelled. Her house is worthless and she sells her possessions to buy a van in which to live and search for work wherever it can be found across the deserts of western America. Even temporary low-paid packing jobs at the gigantic Amazon warehouse look attractive. At least there are people in there.
With all the classic tropes of the road trip genre, the narrative gathers layers of emotion from Fern’s brief encounters with other nomads also searching for belonging. The people she meets among various nomad tribes, the road trip mishaps and the life stories told by fellow-travellers, are all vignettes of loneliness painted onto a larger canvas that cries loss and despair. She is so ungrounded that the prospect of a long-term emotional attachment to an interested suitor snuffs itself out without sense or explanation other than the call of the open road.
There is no joy in this film, nothing to smile at, not even a moment of levity. McDormand single-handedly commands the screen; everything we see is through her eyes, and everything she feels we feel. It is a triumphant performance, supported by evocative photography that slowly builds the emotional scaffold of the story. Frame after frame speaks the film’s message with a script of few words. We can feel the dark, cramped, claustrophobic van life juxtaposed against the vastness of space and natural beauty outside. We see closeups of tired craggy facial lines on sun-aged faces, reflecting desert landscapes with trails of never-ending journeys. At times the pace feels glacial, but there’s no hurry if you have nowhere to go.
It’s hard not to think of how these people might be living if capitalist greed, social inequality, and uncaring political leadership did not condemn them to live out their lives in metal boxes on wheels. The haunting images linger. If you walk away bothered by it, the film will have hit its mark.
Director: Chloe Zhao
Stars: Frances McDormand
I really want to see a movie this week, what’s your favourite one screening at the moment?
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For you Miss Moi, its definitely Promising Young Woman. Promise you’ll tell me what you thought of it when you see it?
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Hi Richard
Another good review. Thanks. It seems to be one of a series of films (books) following the theme of that classic film, The Grapes of Wrath. The only problem I imagine with such current films is they don’t attract an audience at a time when the mood of the population is not with those who are suffering the harsher circumstances of life. We don’t want to know. As I recall the Grapes of Wrath, it came at a time just after the War when the popular mood was pensive and a lot more sensitive to displaced and lonely people. It was something we could relate to then. It’s a ‘who cares’ now.
It’s an area of psychology that should interest Simon. The effects of the changing moods of social awareness. My first recognition of it was when I was researching an old American play based on that famous novel by Harriet Beecher Stowe, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The reviews that were recorded of performances of the play in the 1800s and early 1900’s indicated how audiences were so moved to tears, and the sobbing so loud, that they often had to abandon performances. But attempts to revive that play later were met with howls of derision and amusement (!)
I suppose what it tells us is: it’s not where the book, play or film is coming from, but where the audience wants to go.
Cheers, John
Sent from Mail for Windows 10
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What a great way of putting it John: “it’s not where the book, play or film is coming from, but where the audience wants to go”.
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I think there is certainly an element of Leave No Trace in this film. Your review is beautifully written and I’m very intrigued to see it. I’ve read the book and it was haunting. Fran is a mirror for a lot of us, I dare say. Ungrounded, not knowing where to go, only knowing there is nowhere to stop.
PS I couldn’t leave any messages in WordPress itself for some reason. Happy new year.
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Long time no hear from Jolene. Hope you are surviving the timesl and staying culturally well fed.
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“There is no joy in this film, nothing to smile at, not even a moment of levity.” I believe you. That’s why I’ll pass.
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Good to hear from you Cindy. In times like these we need more La La Lands.
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Hear, hear!
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Ha ha. I had also copied the same line Cindy referenced as the reason (+ Frances McDorland) that I must see this movie. Thank you for calling it to my attention.
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Great minds…think opposite.
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I saw this film last night. It was dismal, but so well done and real. I do think many of the characters are real nomads rather than actors like McDorland & Strathairn. There was one comment made by one of the nomads that gobsmacked me. Paraphrasing here: This one experience was so utterly captivating and meaningful that I knew right then that if I died tomorrow, my life had been fulfilled. How many of us have had such an experience, I wonder?
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A general comment:
The protagonist’s name was Fern not Fran. It may seem strange to the ear as its not a popular name, but it is a name nonetheless. I’ve noticed the mistake in name coming up in newspaper columns as well, so a common mistake.
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Thank you Anita. Error fixed.
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