Nomadland, a feature by relatively new writer/director Chloe Zhao, seems to be part fictional narrative and part documentary. It has the thinnest of plots, Fern (played by Frances McDormand), lived her life in a one-factory town in Nevada. Her husband died and then the factory died, so she packed up her life in a van and has been living out of it ever since. There are many people out there like her in the sparsely populated areas of the American West, and I as far as I can tell, the real people show up in this movie and talk about themselves while Frances McDormand sits there and listens. A woman in an Amazon fulfillment center lunchroom talks about her tattoos. A man gives an impromptu educational lecture on the practical dos and don’t for a life on the road to a crowd of passerbys. An elderly woman sells the little that she has and embarks on one last road trip to Alaska.
Most movies have conflict or plot. Nomadland is adamant about having neither. Banking on the fact that you are likely not familiar with the subject matter, it believes your natural curiously can hold your interest with just showing you a novel way of life with its capable inhabitants acting as tour guides. It is right. Nomadland is lovely little movie filled with the beauty of the open West and the good nature of the nomads that make it their home.
The negatives of this type of life are generally overlooked, lest it spoil the mood and cast shade on the very real people here. One I can think of would be a lack of security either from nature or other people or both. How do you guard your stuff from random people in the middle of nowhere? This is not explained. Fern experiences trouble with her van’s engine. She conveniently has a sister she can call and ask for a loan. We believe Fern when she is good for the money, but that is besides the point. The point is that she has someone to call. I am reminded of Kelly Reichardt’s movie Wendy and Lucy starring Michelle Williams. When Wendy has car trouble, she calls family but they have no interest in helping. Unlike Fern, she ends up selling her car for parts.
The difference between Fern and Wendy is that Fern still has some support. Not only from her sister, but also from the federal government. She looks to be old enough to be receiving social security and be covered by Medicare. She works part of the year in a federal park, which incidentally provides services to nomads like her. The life is not so bad a life and plenty good the movie wants to show. Fern has little wants, makes what she needs to provide them, and has access to community and infrastructure, albeit loose, to support her. The best line is when Fern is asked by a teenage girl if she is ‘homeless’. Fern replies that she is ‘houseless’ and that there is a difference. Fern is not poor, she is simply living on the cheap. There are nomads out there that are truly poor, but we don’t know enough about the people we meet here to know which of them are in that number.
Movies about truly poor people are kind of rare. This is not
helped by the fact that writers’ need their characters to have some sort of
money in order to be able to make choices and do things. Movies are generally
about people who have the opportunity to do make choices and do things. I can
think of two good modern examples of people being poor, not just living on the
cheap like Fern, but poor like do not “have a sister who could loan money if in
a tight spot” poor. Wendy and Lucy by Kelly Reichardt is one. The other
would be the TV-series Atlanta. The character Earn (played by Donald
Glover) is poor, like truly poor. I have never been truly poor, but I’ve lived
on the cheap for a few years and certain scenes in that show really made me
uncomfortable. There is one episode where Earn takes his girlfriend out to a
place that he believes has a cheap burger special and a happy hour that goes
until midnight but upon arrival finds out that management has turned the place
into a seafood restaurant that specializes in tiki drinks. That, as they say,
was real. Nomadland instead is a bit like its last piece of sage wisdom. “One
of things I like most about this life is that there is no final goodbye. I’ve
met hundreds of people out here and I’ll don’t ever say a final goodbye. You
just say, I’ll see you down the road. And I do, I see them again. And I can be
certain in my heart. That I’ll see you again.” Well that’s pretty, but not, as
they say, real.