Movie: Nomadland

I avoid spoilers for movies I know I'm going to watch. My favorite film experiences are complete surprises. Last fall a trailer popped up that was just Frances McDormand walking through a camp of people with some piano music in the background, then the title "Nomadland" appeared. I got very excited because I love Frances McDormand. This promised to be focused on her, maybe just beautifully filmed and walking while people asked her to come over, and her politely refusing so she could just keep walking.

I could watch two hours of that.

Also, the MPAA card before the trailer said it was rated R for "Some full nudity." My movie friends and I wondered what that could mean. Why use the modifier "some", except to point out that some films might have "all full nudity"? Regardless, Frances McDormand plus some full nudity and beautifully filmed walking, that's my jam.

The trailer promised it would open in December 2020, but that was just for awards consideration. I had to wait until late February 2021, after a week of power and water outages caused by greedy fuckwads, to see "Nomadland".

My excitement was warranted. It's a fictional movie based on a non-fiction book about the growing, elderly, impoverished, nomadic work force in the USA. These are people the greedy fuckwads no longer need. They've worked their asses off for 40 or 50 years and are now old and poor. Social Security isn't enough to live on. The extended families that used to put them to work watching kids are long gone.

Well, the greedy fuckwads can squeeze a little more profit out of them. All those cardboard Amazon boxes filling my recycling bin? Fern (Frances McDormand's character) packed those. She was living in a van, freezing her ass off, shitting in a bucket, letting go of her American Dream and all the possessions that went along with it. And showing up at an Amazon distribution site to do the jobs robots can't do. Yet.

We see her working at Amazon. We see her working at a national park. People on vacation treat her just like any normal citizen, unaware that she's been discarded, that's she's a modern hobo, that someday many of them will probably in a similar predicament. This movie reminded me that everyone I meet has some kind of shit going on, that their stories are far more complex than I could ever imagine.

Many of the characters in this film are not actors. They are real people living this life. There's a danger here, of gawking. McDormand is a financially secure, well regarded actress in her 60s who has the freedom to drop everything and live in a van as an extended vacation, acting in scenes with people who don't have that option. They are not on vacation. They didn't drop out. They were squeezed out. I think the film does a good job of respecting them, but it still feels dangerous.

I was struck by the economic and political ramifications of this film. I discussed it with my movie friends (all younger than me) and they were more attentive to Fern's personal story of loss, or to the allure of travel.

I told them all to max out their 401(k)s. The option to travel is great. Being forced to live in a van and shovel sugar beets, not so much. It's hard to recognize that risk when you're young, but it's a very real risk. We have created a system that doesn't need old people, and takes advantage of young people's inability to imagine their old age.

Toward the end of the film, Fern visits a friend's family. They have an infant, and we see their lives filled with wealth and hope. Fern never had children, and is uncomfortable with the whole scene. I was overcome with joy that I had a kid when I did. I'm rapidly approaching the age when the machine will have no more use for me. My financial future is better than Fern's, but not great. I could easily end up living in a van. But I will always have access to that joy, that thing I did that time, when I got to be a dad and live that dad life.

Fern's American Dream ended when her husband died. She can't connect with a male character who is obviously interested in her because she is still grieving that loss. After the movie I told my wife neither of us is allowed to die.

The MPAA card should have read "Fleeting, oblique nudity." It should also be required viewing for people in their 20s.