Nomadland delivers on many fronts: innocent performances, cleverly awkward cinematography, and raw intimacy. Yet, Chloé Zhao’s factual but fictional style takes centre stage only to end up hindering what could have shined just a little bit brighter.

Nomadland, at its core, strays from the beaten path. On one hand, the film wanders around aimlessly as a simple narrative is woven and ‘stretched’ into a feature film.

Yet on the other, Chloé Zhao delivers an elegant and intricate portrait into a reality; every feeling carefully placed as an entire lifestyle is laid bare. This second view lies beyond the surface of Zhao’s fictional but factual portrait, a perspective that may take its own time to take root and grow into what is Nomadland’s deserved appreciation.

Widowed and jobless, Fern (Frances McDormand) wanders the West after leaving her long-time home in Empire. Nomadland follows Fern’s journey in a docu-fictional manner as Zhao jumps from moment to moment: Fern finds a job at an Amazon fulfilment centre (a topic that is, disappointingly, only hinted at), she speaks to some colleagues, and then leaves, the experience feeling somewhat empty as Fern moves on. Most interactions are short and act as brief windows into Fern’s life, each instance building up the seemingly hopeless protagonist and her chosen lifestyle. There is an abruptness to the intimacy that Zhao revels in, often leading to a touch of awkwardness as Fern relieves herself in her van, cementing her will on her chosen path.

Yet the emptiness remains. The odd but interesting collage that is Fern’s life remains intriguing but rarely finds a home in emotional impacts. It is hard not to care for Fern, but as she drives around and characters flit in and out of her van, it becomes progressively tougher to truly care for her. You don’t need to.

Nomadland isn’t necessarily about Fern’s place as a nomad but more of an essay on the nomad lifestyle and its place in modern America. Scenes feel fleeting because they are: Fern constantly moves on, never finding her own place to truly call ‘home’. Storylines seem to disappear and then suddenly come back because they do: Fern randomly bumps into people that may or may not hold relevance, an uncertainty that mimics the reality.

The film is far from soulless. Frances McDormand walked away with her third Academy Award for Best Actress (and her first as a producer for Nomadland’s victory as Best Picture) at the Oscars, an award that could not be more deserved. McDormand’s performance fills many of the glaring gaps as she feels authentic, enhancing the documentary-like style with a comfort that can easily be mistaken for simplicity.

The only other actors in the cast are fellow producer Peter Spears and David Strathairn, both of which playing nomads and using their first names (as does the rest of the cast). Supporting roles are filled by real modern nomads and van dwellers including Bob Wells, a famous advocate of the simple lifestyle who delivers a surreal speech that overcomes the lack of connection found in the film. As Wells preaches, it is hard not to see the beauty of it all despite the sacrifices; the Sun shining behind him as he shares his miseries and passions.

Serene and complex; a performance that speaks truth… Frances McDormand. Image: Searchlight Pictures

The performances feel raw not only through the reality that the actors choose to be a part of, but the camera is always placed intimately. Whether it is an elevated angle or an awkward positioning as Fern and Swankie (Charlene Swankie) speak about the latter’s health, there is an off-ness about the situation. Although it doesn’t fix the shaky story, it never ceases to intrigue; continuously emphasising the importance of the information that has been selected and deemed ‘relevant’ from Fern’s life.

At first, viewing the film left me with a somewhat bittersweet aftertaste. At no point was the film ever boring, but it certainly felt bloated by details that added nothing but interludes between one conversation and the next. Yet, after some time passed, the film found a home within me as I began to circle back to it every fourth thought.

Adapted from a non-fictional book of the same name by Jessica Bruder, creating a documentary wouldn’t have done the theme justice and neither would have a plot-centred tale. Zhao has created a snapshot of a mantra, a journey which rarely takes a step wrong but unfortunately builds tension to a disappointing ending… another similarity to life that hurts the experience but elevates the idea.

Nomadland is currently showing in select cinemas.