Film Review: Nomadland

Of Loss and Renewal

What does a woman do after she’s lost everything?

Chloé Zhao’s “Nomadland” (which plays at South Bay Drive-in Theater on Feb. 19, when it also opens on Hulu) introduces us to Fern (Frances McDormand), who loses her job to economic collapse and her husband to cancer and finds herself a “surplus worker.”

How to deal with that? She doesn’t sit around complaining. She packs her van, takes off and winds up in a parking lot with lots of other van dwellers. Some of them are voluntary nomads and consider it a lifestyle. Most of them are piece workers who move from place to place, depending on where the jobs are. Fern meets several, hears their stories and decides that she’ll try it too.

“Nomadland” – based on a book by Jessica Bruder, a journalist who did exactly what Fern does – is the fascinating result. Zhao wrote the script, editing along the way as situations changed. McDormand actually signed on as one of the producers, not thinking of acting until Zhao suggested it.

It’s a strange way to make a movie, but Zhao (“Songs My Brother Taught Me,” “The Rider”) has such an eye and ear for what will work that the results are excellent.

Geographically, the film begins in the South Dakota Badlands, goes through Deadwood, Nebraska to Western Nebraska for the beet harvest. Then to Empire, Nevada (gypsum mines until it was obliterated by the Great Recession and everyone got evicted). Then Punta Arena in Mendocino County, then Yuma, then back to San Bernardino County

McDormand, always a pleasure to watch, is utterly convincing, even when working alongside her colleagues – at an Amazon fulfillment center, a sugar beet harvesting plant, in the cafeteria of a tourist attraction and as a camp host in a national park.

“Nomadland” is all the better for the presence of three real nomads – Linda Mae, Swankie and Bob Wells. They value the temporary nature of the work and the freedom of knowing that soon enough, they will be on their way to another place.

Fern, meanwhile, has learned both self-reliance and working together, but mostly gains an appreciation of how to live with nature. 

Film Review: Palmer

When Eddie Palmer (Justin Timberlake) comes home after a 12-year stretch in the Big House, he expects to find his grandmother Vivian (June Squibb), the only mother figure he has ever had. 

What he doesn’t expect is to find a seven-year-old kid named Sam living in the house trailer next to Vivian’s property, nor that Vivian is playing mom to him the way she did to Palmer all those years ago. Sam’s real mom Shelly (Juno Temple) is an addict who disappears for long periods of time.

Palmer, a onetime hometown gridiron hero, played a year of college ball, but then developed an unhealthy relationship with pain pills, ending up in the slammer.

Speaking of playing, Palmer is shocked to find that Sam, a cute outgoing kid, 

likes to wear dresses and play with dolls. He pines to be a member of Penelope’s Flying Princess Club.

“You do know you’re a boy?” asks Palmer acidly. “Boys don’t play with dolls.”

“Well, I’m a boy, and I do,” replies Sam.

Vivian takes Palmer in, but has one ironclad rule: He must drive the trio (including Sam) to church every Sunday, because “they won’t let me drive anymore.”

Palmer needs to find a job, but in this southern town where “it’s all about church and football,” this is a big ask for an ex-con. A provisional assignment as a janitor at Sam’s school sets the scene for a meeting with lovely teacher Miss Maggie (Alisha Wainwright), whose daughter Emily (Molly Sue Harrison) is Sam’s classmate.

If you think you know where this is going, you’re probably right. There’s nothing unusual or startling about Cheryl Guerriero’s script, but there is some fine acting and a heaping helping of humanity, which goes down very nicely right about now.

Timberlake is presented as rather more saintly than one would expect, especially given the evidence we see of his fondness for chuggin’ and sluggin.’ It’s difficult to either buy his own self-willed transformation or Maggie’s influence on him. But one can easily just take it for what it is, and go along for the ride. I’d advise the latter.

Young Ryder Allen could easily get a nod for this role, which he plays with absolute authenticity. I began to wonder how likely it is that a small (and small-minded) southern town could produce a kid this self-assured, but Allen is so likable that I put aside my concerns. 

Do yourself a favor: don’t waste time wondering how likely this is. Just enjoy it for what it is.

“Palmer” is playing on Apple TV+