Land of the Lost

Not long ago, I savaged Mank, this year's most-nominated film in the Oscar race. I truly could not imagine the person who would really love it. Now I turn my attention to the movie that seems to be the favorite for Best Picture, Nomadland. Here, I can imagine the audience it might be for. But it's not me.

Nomadland stars Frances McDormand as Fern, a widow who lives out of her van and who has taken to the road -- partly out of financial strife, but mostly in a defiant choice of lifestyle. The movie follows her around the U.S. as she bobs from job to job, runs into the same people living as she does, and struggles to stay afloat.

In my eyes, Nomadland is less a movie than a book of poetry. It barely has a narrative; a very loose collection of not-always related scenes serves as a plot. Characters weave in and out of the movie, sometimes making an impact and sometimes not. Most scenes feel like we the audience are joining them already in progress; the editing favors "starting late" and "ending early" to such a degree that it seems more about establishing a mood than conveying information.

The visual sensibilities are poetic too. Landscapes star more than people in this tale. Director Chloé Zhao and cinematographer Joshua James Richards make sure that all the natural beauty of the movie's many locations is displayed in all its glory. Wide shots rule the day, the close-ups being the rare exception. We get gorgeous terrain, gorgeous sunsets, gorgeous desolation. I'd say it makes you want to visit some of the places in the movie, but the goal seems to be to present it so fully that you feel like you already have.

Nomadland is based on a non-fiction book, and so it makes sense that it becomes an almost-documentary movie that's more interested in exposing its audience to something new. It wants to educate us on "nomad life," not character. Indeed, the only character progression in the entire film is tacked on in the final three minutes, as if in weak acknowledgement that travelling (emotionally) from A to B is something that narrative fiction should probably do. The film is capitalizing on the presence of Oscar winner Frances McDormand, using her to build character as a shortcut for what it would rather not waste time on.

There are other movies in this style, and I think this is a strong version of that movie. But I can't say for sure what people are looking for in these narratively sparse, style-over-substance movies. I don't care for them, and I didn't like this one. For me, it was a D-, with only my occasional acknowledgement of the visual artistry making the watch remotely worthwhile. But this movie does have its audience out there, and I hope they find their way to it.