Nomadland (2021) – Movie Review

Review of Nomadland (2021) by Chloé Zhao, starring Frances McDormand, Bob Wells, and others.

Lemme start this piece with a question.

When was the last time you saw a film that made you rethink the way you live your life? Or made you yearn for something so much that you were willing to drop everything you stood for all your life and start over? Or made you ponder the meaning of it all?

Take your time.

For me, I had to go all the way back to the SRK starrer Swades.

No, I don’t mean there haven’t been good movies lately. In fact, a lot of films over the recent years have been so so good that you wonder where were these filmmakers all this while. I think with the advent of OTT and D2C, the business has moved into a territory where experimental, edgier, deeper films are possible. Stories like Whiplash, Three Billboards, and more would never come to life in an era when theatres dictated the fortune of films.

Closer home, films like The Disciple (yet to see), and even Gully Boy (even though I am not a big fan of it) would never happen if we continued to look for formulaic cinema that has come to rule the box offices, production houses, and audiences. In fact, I must mention films like Irul and Joji (I recently saw these). If not for OTTs, I would not even have these in the consideration set. These were among the first few non-Hindi, non-English films I saw and I was mightily impressed with them. More on these later, before I digress too far ahead.

Coming to the film that I want to talk about today.

Nomadland.
Spoilers ahead. In case you havent seen, please read with caution.

On Location: Chloé Zhao's 'Nomadland' Is a Love Letter to America's Wide  Open Spaces | Condé Nast Traveler
Screengrab from Nomadland.

Nomadland, the film has a fairly simple story. The kinds you would dismiss if you heard it as a pitch. Fern, a widow (played by Frances McDormand) decides to skip the town (strangely called Empire) where she’s literally lived all her life. In two unrelated incidents, her husband has died and the town gets shut (and she loses her job). Instead of going to live with her sister or other relatives, she chooses van dwelling and hits the road. Along the way, she picks temporary, seasonal jobs to make ends meet. And meets others like her. The ones who have decided to remain on the move for perpetuity. Somewhere along the road she discovers herself and finds the closure that she’s seeking.

That’s it. That’s the story!

Even as a writer, I cant seem to spot the arc in the story (or the character), the three acts, the inciting incident, the conflicts, and so on and so forth. And yet the story, the narrative, the film is gripping.

Irrespective. It’s been a few days since I saw the film and it has made me rethink the choices I’ve made in my life. It made me yearn for the interplay of predictability and adventures that open roads that tend to have. After all, they have a destination per se and yet could potentially lead to nowhere. It made me question my raison d’etre. I was so moved, so inspired to let go of whatever little I have at the place I call home. And I will not lie, I have started to make an inventory and sort whatever little I have in two piles – one to be sent to storage (my parent’s home in Delhi) and the other that I will carry along.

Oh, I must also mention that often the time and the stage in life at which you see a film tends to amplify the impact it has on you. It’s poignant and uncanny and insane that I saw Nomadland at a time when I am surrounded by so many people who are forced to say untimely goodbyes. To me, it’s thus become a film about coping with grief, coming to terms with our impermanence, thinking about mortality, letting go, and on top of it all, continuing to move on.

I loved how the film starts with Fern gingerly packing all her belongings in long-term storage and heading out. And I loved how the film ends with Fern discarding all that she had (apparently) carefully stored (cos we enter that scene late). It’s so poetic that I can’t seem to get over it. The inventory I talked about above is inspired by exactly this!

So the film.

The film follows Fern’s journey as she moves around the country, taking odd jobs to pay her bills, trying to overcome obstacles that a nomadic life throws at her, and her search for herself, through the lens of others, the relationships she develops, and the community of other van-dwellers. She even calls herself “houseless” and not homeless. She’s accepted the van as her home. Along the way she makes friends with strangers and finds solace in this Sage figure of Bob Wells that’s like a savant and messiah for van dwellers and others of the ilk. There’s even a hint of a love interest with another van dweller, Dave.

Film Commentary: "Nomadland" and Freedom's Call - A Realistic Look at a  Growing Subculture - The Arts Fuse
Fern and Dave

At each juncture, with each person Fern encounters, the film throws at me a reason for choosing the road over what Dave calls spending “another night under a roof”. Bob is probably coming to terms with the loss of his son and what he does is his way to make amends with his inability to undo things and bring his son back. Swankie is terminal and doesn’t want to die in a hospital. There’s an even more stable, more relatable, more normal family of Fern’s sister that is picturesque and poster-child of American success. From their lens, you see that they crave the freedom that Fern has. And on this side is the contrasting reality of Fern where she’s forced to visit her sister to borrow some 2000 dollars to fix her van! Uff!

I loved how each character had a well-developed backstory that they literally narrate. The film reversed the old age “tip” of showing and not telling. I mean there’s a lot of telling, a lot of symbolism and yet it just feels right!

To me, the biggest takeaway from the film is NOT that there are people that choose a nomadic lifestyle. The takeaway is that all of us are so communal that we need shelter in a community of others, like-minded individuals who believe in the same ideology as you. This shared ideology is what often helps you tide over your battles – personal or otherwise; large or small.

In fact, all my life, I’ve wanted to build a community of people like me. People that are innately curious, people who want to live a life full of adventure, excitement, non-stop dopamine hits, and exploration. People that want to do more, help others do more, and along the way live a great life. People that push us, humans, ahead. I think this bit about community and the need to belonging is probably the most fundamental of all our needs. Something that we are willing to kill for. You know the world today is a testimony of how our attachment to our communities and ideologies has brought us to a brink!

In Nomadland, the community that Fern eventually finds is of people that seek freedom and yet of escape. It is this community, through the interplay of emotions and life and death and love and separation and more, that makes Fern reconcile with her loss and eventually helps her accept the life that she’s chosen for herself.

In terms of the visuals, the cinematography, the film seemed to have filled in the vast, empty, remote American landscapes with dense emotions and turmoil that each character seems to be going through. As an aspiring filmmaker, this is something that I need to note and work on when I make my film.

There is this scene in the film where Fern is holding a lantern and is walking across the trailer park. It is probably among the best pieces of camerawork and imagination. It’s such a great metaphor for you trying to find yourself amidst all the others around you. There is another where Fern is floating naked in a rivulet. Oh man, the bliss that she’s in! Then those tight shots of her in her van where she’s so intimate with the congested space that you almost feel guilty about deriving voyeuristic pleasures from seeing her interact with things in her “natural habitat”.

There’s so much to love about the film.

I love the writing. Even though there are few words, few dialogues in the film, each word spoken by each character is like a pearl. Each line is crafted with so much care that it shows. Each sentence is worth hanging onto.

I loved the juxtaposition of struggle fight against large businesses like Amazon and then, on the other side, reliance on such businesses to pay your bills. The neverending fence that divides capitalists and free-right advocates.

I loved how the film spoke to me at a personal level – I don’t want to be in a hospital when my time comes. I like the idea of freedom. I want need a community where I am understood.

The most pivotal part of the film for me is right at the end when Fern and Bob talk about Bob’s life. I was stunned when he explains the rationale of “down the road”.

My jaws literally touched the floor when I heard that.

At that point, the meaning of the film, the unknown that Fern and others were chasing, the known that Bob is after, and the reason why I do what I do, as Saurabh, became crystal clear. Like someone opened the all-knowing, all-seeing, third eye! Once you see the film, hope it’s evident to you as well.

So that’s about from me about Nomadland.

I have to say that great films not just tell you a story, but also change something in you. You shift as an individual. You empathize with the protagonists so much that you want to make changes to your life. Nomadland is one such film. Please do watch it and be ready to shift. It deserves all the accolades it’s got. Probably more. And it deserves your attention.

Over and out.

See you, down the road.

PS: I was on the fence about buying a car. Now, after I’ve seen the film, thought about it, written this piece, I think I will make an attempt to get one. Let’s see when.

130521 – Morning Pages

Longish post on losing people, the grief thereafter and coming to terms. And notes from a film.

7 AM
This will be a long one.
And will probably among the darkest pieces I have written in a while.
Read at peril.

So, yesterday, someone I spoke to for less than 5 mins a year ago passed away due to COVID-19. All my interactions with him were limited to one 5-minute long phone call. I remember that even to coordinate for this 5-minute call there was way too much back and forth. He was driving to his office in Gurgaon and the signal was patchy. And then I was on another call and I had a patchy signal. He remained patient and understanding and all that. Despite his seniority and his experience and his connections and all that.

It’s rare to have someone like him at his level with his stature be so humble. I was impressed. My partner, who eventually recorded a conversation with him, told me that he’s seen hundreds of entrepreneurs but none like him. His vision of India, the ethics with which he worked, and the impact he wanted to leave behind was unlike any other.

Can vouch for the impact. When I heard that he’s passed away, I was speechless. You know, sucker-punched. No, I did not know him. The loss was not personal. But it felt as close as a personal one would.

I did not know what to do.

I eventually did what I do best to cope with such situations.

I escaped. Shut the curtains, switched off my phone, ordered a lot of food. Ate and slept through the day. I thought I’ve had enough of this pain and suffering of people leaving the world. I thought I was beyond such pain. I thought I had a heart so tough that nothing could plunge through. I thought I was unbreakable. Numb is the word.

But no.
Nope.
I learned I am a tad more human. I couldn’t function. I was stifled for breath and thought. Even though I spoke to him for like 5 minutes. That too almost a year ago. I was shrouded by doubt and I questioned the very existence. Why do we do things we do? And to what end? When you can go onward as randomly as this! And for no fault of yours.

Damn this fucking feeling of helplessness! Not just at doing something to prevent this loss but also the inability to cope with the loss. The inability to say goodbyes. Oh, that’s the thing that I suck even more at. I don’t know how to say goodbyes. Temporary or permanent.

I think a simple mechanism could be to not get attached to things that make you cry when you have to leave. And not let others get attached to you that they are pained when they have to leave. This will probably make us inhuman but I guess that’s the only solution.

Have no memories, have no affiliations, have nothing that binds you to a place or a thing and you are ok. I mean there must be people that are overjoyed when you call them. There must be strangers that remember you or your actions. Like I remember this gentleman’s actions. I will probably forget him with time but the way he conducted himself is a lesson.

May be, I need to minimize such interactions so that at least I don’t feel the loss at a personal level when they move on. And if they care for me, they don’t feel the same.

While writing this, I was thinking who all would feel unbridled joy when I spoke to them. Can’t think of anyone but my parents. Most other relationships are mere transactions. If I were to make a list of people I am attached to, it would run in miles! I think I need to start cutting.

Thing is, I just don’t know what to do when something like this happens. I’ve always sucked at saying goodbyes.

Anyhow. Life goes on. Yes, we need to acknowledge the pain, take a pause and reflect on what we lost and move on. The earth does not stop spinning. The chakra of life continues. Even if you don’t like it. So, being the eternal optimist, I need to take a silver lining from this. I need to up my sleeves and do more. And do fast. Life’s so so so unpredictable. Damn!

#epiphany! I realized why I am so affected by this. The guy did EVERYTHING I wanted to do in life. And thus I can relate to his life and achievements so much! When my time comes, I hope I have created a body of work that inspires others to live better.


So moving on.

Yesterday, I Saw Nomadland. The critically acclaimed film that won I don’t know how many awards. I want to write a review per se. Lemme use this post to make notes. Repeat. This is not a review. This is a collection of notes that I will develop into a review eventually.

It’s poignant and uncanny and insane that I saw this film when I am surrounded by so many people that are forced to say untimely goodbyes. To me, it’s also a film about coping with grief, coming to terms with our impermanence, thinking about mortality, and on top of it all, letting go.

So the film is about this old woman, Fern who is left alone after her husband dies and the town that they lived in is shut. She leaves on this road trip (not clear right now, will read more before I write the review) and decide to live in a van, something that is so deeply immersed in the American culture that you cant think of either without the other.

The film follows her journey as she moves around the country, taking odd jobs to pay her bills, trying to overcome obstacles that a nomadic life throws at her, and her search for herself, through the lens of others, the relationships she develops, and the community of other van-dwellers.

To me, the biggest takeaway from the film is not that there are people that have chosen a nomadic lifestyle by living in their vans. But is about how you seek and you need and you must have a community of others that believe in the same ideology as you and how the bond that you form with others in the community helps you tide over your personal battles. In fact, all my life, I’ve wanted to build a community of such people, others trying to find answers. Just that in Nomadland, the community is of people that seek freedom and I want to create a community of people that want to do more and push us, humans, ahead. I think this bit about community and the need to belonging is probably the most fundamental of all our needs. Something that we are willing to kill for. You know the world today is seeing that the need to belong to a certain ideology is making people blind!

I loved how the film filled the vast, empty, remote American landscapes with dense emotions and turmoil that each character seems to be going through. As an aspiring filmmaker, this is something that I need to note and work on when I get to make my film.

I loved how each character had a backstory that was told by them. The fill reversed the old age tip about showing and not telling. I mean there’s a lot of telling, lot of symbolism but a large part of the film is tell.

I loved how the film spoke to me at a personal level – I don’t want to be in a hospital when my time comes.

I loved the juxtaposition of struggle fight against large businesses like Amazon and then, on the other side, reliance on such businesses to pay your bills. The neverending fence that divides capitalists and free-right advocates.

Let’s see what else comes to me once I start writing.

Thing is, great films not just tell a story but change something in you. You shift as an individual after you watch a great piece of cinema. You empathize with the character so much that you want to make changes in how you live! I am thinking I will get a car and start living a life where I just have things that I can carry in a briefcase. Even the books I will donate. Or pack and send to long-term storage (aka my parent’s home in Delhi). Lol!

Moving on.

Need to get on with the day. Before that need to write something. To be able to think better (I think better when I write). So I’ve been feeling shitty and listless for last few days. I think I have pinpointed. It’s the relationships I have and the company I keep. I need to end a few. You know how you need to get better by amputating the part that puts the body at risk?

That!

Here’s the streaks…

  • Morning Pages / Meditations – 151
  • #aPicADay – 0
  • 10K steps a day – 0
  • OMAD – 0
  • #noCoffee – 0
  • #noCoke – 63
  • 10 mins of meditation – 0
  • #book2 – 0
  • Killer Boogie – 0
  • Original Work (limited time only) – 0
  • Surya Namaskar – 0