"No, I’m Not Homeless. I’m Just Houseless”: a breakdown of Nomadland

The 2008 Financial Crisis is known as the most severe economic recession in the US since the Great Depression of the 1930s. It devastated various aspects of the economy, leading to an overall increase in home mortgage foreclosures and causing many Americans to lose their livelihoods. As a consequence of the financial disaster, the economic upheaval drove many desperate Americans—mostly seniors—to adopt an itinerant nomadic lifestyle. As the oldest human subsistence method, nomadism allows one to move freely without fixed habitation while efficiently finding and exploiting resources (Harrouk). In fact, living off-road is still applicable to modern-day America, as most nomads opt to live in vans and do temporary jobs in order to survive. Today, thousands of people are living a nomadic lifestyle across American public lands; many are forced to live this way while some willingly choose to adopt it (Trujillo). Since nomads are always on the move, what do they call home? Does home necessarily mean a settled physical dwelling, or does it have a more complex meaning? Chloé Zhao’s 2021 movie Nomadland ponders the notion of home and offers us novel perspectives about what “home” truly means. 

Questioning the concepts of home and house, Chloé Zhao’s careful examination of American nomads and their unconventional lifestyles infuses the serene but powerful movie Nomadland. Fern, the female protagonist in her sixties played by Frances McDormand, loses her job after the US Gypsum plant in Empire, Nevada shuts down during the 2008 Great Recession. Her husband Bo has also passed away recently. Fern relinquishes both her house and some of her possessions, and ultimately decides to leave her hometown Empire, Nevada, and hit the road with her van. While Fern is working at an Amazon warehouse, she learns about the nomadic lifestyle from her colleague and friend Linda, played by Linda May. Although Fern is initially reluctant about adopting the nomad lifestyle, she discovers that it might be the best choice for her after the temporary Amazon job ends. The protagonist ends up in a desert site for the nomads in Arizona, following Linda’s suggestions. At the gathering, she learns about the core values of nomadic life from Bob (Bob Wells), a real-life nomad and leader of the community. Gradually, Fern almost seamlessly assimilates into the nomad community. She forms solid friendships with nomads such as Swankie, played by Charlene Swankie, and Dave, played by David Strathairn. She also finds that the nomadic life essentially complements her restless character and helps her deal with grief. Fern carries her sorrow and burden along her nomadic journey throughout the film. In the end, she finally decides to return to the abandoned town of Empire and visits the obsolete house where she used to live with her dead husband Bo. Although Empire used to be her home, the house no longer holds the same meaning for Fern. Eventually, Fern hits the road again and this time, she thoroughly views her van as her new home. She is now ready to start a whole new chapter of life. The movie ends with a shot of Fern’s van driving away and merging with the vast American West landscape. 

Anchored in empathetic consciousness, director Zhao effectively cultivates relationships and highlights the mobile but tight-knit nomad community. Zhao develops a new perspective of home by depicting the sincere bonding between the nomads. Beginning with the sounds of people chatting and food serving, the scene of the nomad gathering in Arizona forms a stark contrast with the previous solitary scenes (00:19:20-00:22:29). Up until this point, Nomadland’s themes for the first twenty minutes are isolation, grief, and loneliness. Nevertheless, this scene of the nomad community reflects warmth and kindness; it is almost the first time that Fern finds a sense of belonging since her husband Bo’s passing. 

The naturalistic dialogue also portrays a humanistic atmosphere and genuine human interactions, almost like that of “a warm hug that calms the frontier’s cold nights” (Goodman). Zhao’s celebration of the simple things in life delivers a message of humanity at the story’s center. The idea of humanity is reinforced by the following scene of nomads sharing personal experiences and backgrounds with each other around the bonfire. Zhao’s filming style, which is mainly dominated by static usage of camera handling and a quick succession of shots, is unique in modern-day cinematography. As a result, a sense of humanity is strengthened to a great extent as we can feel the deep interaction between characters and the tranquil environment of nature in the dark. Moreover, through the meditative sound of the fire in the background, as well as the smooth character-tracking shots around the bonfire, we can directly sense the emotions and consciousness of the nomads who are speaking. Through such directorial efforts, we can understand each person’s unique circumstances more profoundly. 

Through the mise-en-scène, Zhao creates an effect of empathy for the nomads on screen, which directly appeals to our sentiment and changes our understandings of the nomads (Roxborough). In short, many nomads, such as Fern, are forced to adopt the nomadic life by circumstance in the beginning. Yet some within the community willingly choose to experience the nomad lifestyle as a way to heal themselves or find purpose in life. Thus, the nomad community is filled with people from diverse backgrounds and experiences, but one thing that they all have in common is embracing the nomadic life; here at the RV site, they are all experiencing unconventional ways of living and together sharing a home. As LaVonne Ellis points out in Rachelle Bergstein’s article “American’s Forgotten Men and Women Are Becoming ‘Vandweller,’” “I found my people, [...], a ragtag group of misfits who surrounded me with love and acceptance” (qtd. in Bergstein). Indeed, the lives of the nomads are rooted in relationships and connections within a community, which forms an integral part of the unconventional notion of home. Essentially, home is humanity. 

Although Fern’s economic and social circumstances force her to embrace the nomadic lifestyle in the first place, she continuously grows to appreciate it. In fact, we can gradually see a change from passive acceptance to active living. A major aspect leading to her gradual change in mindset is the vast and gorgeous landscape of the American West. In short, the variety of landscape shots throughout Nomadland makes us realize the scale of beauty in nature. Specifically, it’s the complex relationship between the landscape and the nomads that redefines the idea of home in the movie. As film critic Justin Chang highlights, “The America of ‘Nomadland’ is vast and gorgeously desolate, stretching on forever toward dusky horizons. It’s also a surprisingly small world, where workampers following the same migratory patterns have a habit of bumping into each other” (Chang). Zhao’s portrayal of the free-flowing friendship of the nomads is indeed moving. Even though the bonds that Fern makes with other nomads are deep and heartwarming, the nomads basically never hold each other back. The balance between the motifs of community and individualism also makes Nomadland memorable. It is clear that every time Fern connects with the other nomads and forms strong bonds, she is then left alone to hit the road again in her van. Each time the shot of the back of the van appears in the middle of the screen with Ludovico Einaudi’s background piano music, Fern is moving on, back in her solitary existence (DuMont). 

In the middle of the movie, through adept cinematography, Zhao allows us to travel along with Fern’s white van through the breathtaking landscapes that are unique to America. We follow her on the natural journey, dipping our toes into a stream of flowing spring, breathing in the woody scent as we are embraced by the evergreen forests, and looking up at the summer sky swirling with orange and lilac hues in the American West desert (00:44:27-00:46:40). As Fern is immersed in nature, the combination of piano and violin music appeals directly to our emotions. The gentle and meditative music perfectly fits the motifs of Nomadland and effectively reflects the inner dialogue that Fern has with herself while driving and contemplating. As the camera cuts to Fern taking the lamp and walking on the grass ground under the gorgeous and vast sky, the breathtaking landscape and the solitary protagonist form a powerful contrast. In the seemingly boundless nature, the nomads seem to be blending into the natural landscape. The interaction between the landscape and the nomad creates a unique effect: Fern seems to become a part of the epic landscape. Indeed, the sheer simplicity of the modern-day nomadic lifestyle purifies deep human connections and immersion in nature. Since the borderless sky serves as Fern’s only permanent ceiling after she adopts such a lifestyle, the land is Fern’s inherent home and many other nomads’ (Goodman). 

Zhao’s Nomadland is based on Columbia University journalism professor Jessica Bruder’s 2017 non-fiction bestseller titled, Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century. For the book, Bruder immersed herself in the lives of the nomads (Bergstein), and takes on both a poetic dimension as well as a documentary aspect to record happenings and create continuous discoveries of the landscape, the characters, and their lifestyles (Harrouk). Similarly, when Zhao was making her first three films - Songs My Brothers Taught Me (2015), The Rider (2017), and Nomadland (2020) - she also embedded herself in the communities she was portraying (Roxborough). Through this approach, Zhao directly experiences the nomadic lifestyles on the margins herself, which allows her to resonate with the real-life nomads and thus produce a sincere and authentic movie. 

Furthermore, Zhao also continues Bruder’s act of combining two different genres into one. In Nomadland, she surprises us with a novel perspective on an over-worn American genre of Western. In her take on the Western movie, she avoids the clichéd elements of cowboys and horses and adds some new perspectives and angles. Although the movie runs just under two hours, we get a sense of watching both a documentary and a narrative. As Richard Brody suggests in his film review on The New Yorker, “The two elements work against each other, [...], the fictional side remains bound to (and limited by) the most conventional and unquestioned observational mode of documentary filmmaking, while the documentary aspect strains against the simplifying framework of the drama in which it’s confined” (Brody). Indeed, Chloé Zhao is reinventing the traditional Hollywood cinematic mythology in Nomadland. 

It is also important to point out that many of the nomads who appear in the book are also featured in Zhao’s Nomadland movie as fictionalized versions of themselves, including Bob Wells and Linda May. As Frances McDormand explains to Rolling Stone about Zhao’s process, “She’s basically like a journalist. She gets to know your story, and she creates a character from that” (qtd. in Fontoura). Zhao’s unique way of casting real-life nomads and capturing real-life stories lends authenticity. Although it might seem like a risky choice at first glance, it works out a lot more effectively than casting a crew of Hollywood trainees playacting as modern-day nomads. Hence, casting non-actors allows Zhao to create an authentic and engaging storyline. In essence, featuring actual nomads, the movie is not solely about being on the road or living in the vans; it’s more about those who have picked a novel yet peripheral path and created their own definition of home. 

Elvis Presley’s 1962 song “Home Is Where the Heart Is” implies that no matter where we are, our home will always be the place where we have the deepest emotional pull. In her article “Homeless and houseless can mean different things,” on The Maui News, Joyce Kawakami also claims, “A home is where you feel comfortable, [...], whiling being houseless is living without a house, but it can still be considered someone’s home” (Kawakami). In our stereotypical thinking, “homeless” is a word that first reminds us of sleeping on the streets; Nevertheless, Nomadland presents us an unseen side of homelessness. A home can essentially mean anything, depending on different people’s perspectives. At the beginning of the movie, Fern is forced to become a nomad and is reluctant to accept the term “homeless;” as time goes on, she discovers something greater than mere survival—she finds the real meaning of home in her view. The statement of “I’m not homeless. I’m just houseless” is not simply a justification, but rather an assertion of Fern’s current identity. From her own perspective, she does have a home, either it’s the heartwarming and supportive nomad community, or the stunning and majestic American West landscape, or both. 

Despite motifs of individualism and escapism, Nomadland brilliantly explores the underlying idea of home. Through adeptly portraying the nomad community and skillfully depicting the American landscape, Zhao redefines the notion of home while also allowing us to ponder our own understandings of what home means. Before watching Nomadland, my personal interpretation of home was never really a physical place where we dwelled and lived in, but a sense of comfort and belonging. As someone who was born and raised in a megapolis in China, then went to high school in a suburb in North Carolina, and currently attends college in New York, I’ve certainly found my home in many different parts of the world. To me, home is a feeling rather than a settled place. Yet, Nomadland deepens and enriches my definition of home. Now I realize that home can also mean the diverse and amazing landscapes that I’ve wandered. My home can be the remarkable skyscrapers in the Central Business District in Shenzhen, the peaceful Tobacco Trial in Cary, or the vibrant Washington Square Park in NYC. Similarly, Fern  explores her unique understanding of home through her nomadic journeys. As Fern traverses the mountains and the deserts, the grasslands and the forests, she begins to envision the various possibilities of living off-road and off-grid. Fern may be houseless, but she’s coming home. 

Works Cited 

Bergstein, Rachelle. “America's Forgotten Men and Women Are Becoming 'Vandwellers'.” New York Post. 25 Sept. 2017, https://nypost.com/2017/09/23/these-people-are-rejecting-the-american-dream-by-living-in-rvs/. Accessed 22 Feb. 2022.

Brody, Richard. “‘Nomadland," Reviewed: Chloé Zhao's Nostalgic Portrait of Itinerant America.” The New Yorker. 19 Feb. 2021, https://www.newyorker.com/culture/the- front-row/nomadland-reviewed-chloe-zhaos-nostalgic-portrait-of-itinerant-america. Accessed 22 Feb. 2022.

Chang, Justin. “Review: Frances McDormand Is at Her Finest in 'Nomadland,' a Sublime Ode to American Wanderlust.” Los Angeles Times. 2 Dec. 2020, https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/movies/story/2020-12-02/nomadland-review-frances-mcdormand. Accessed 22 Feb. 2022.

DuMont, Claire. “'Nomadland' Redefines Our Idea of Home in a Breathtaking Journey across the West.” The Student Life, 5 Mar. 2021, https://tsl.news/nomadland-review/. Accessed 7 Mar. 2022.

Fontoura, Maria. “The Wanderlust of Chloe Zhao.” Rolling Stone, Rolling Stone, 21 Apr. 2021, https://www.rollingstone.com/movies/movie-features/chloe-zhao-director-nomadland-marvel-eternals-interview-1115696/. Accessed 7 Mar. 2022.

Goodman, Sarah. “'Nomadland': A Home Is Not a House.” The Daily Campus, 29 Mar. 2021, https://dailycampus.com/2021/03/29/nomadland-a-home-is-not-a-house/. Accessed 7 Mar. 2022.

Harrouk, Christele. “Nomadland: Journey of a Modern-Day Nomad across the Landscape of the American West.” ArchDaily, ArchDaily, 28 Apr. 2021, https://www.archdaily.com/960814/nomadland-journey-of-a-modern-day-nomad-across-the-landscape-of-the-american-west. Accessed 7 Mar. 2022.

Presley, Elvis. “Home Is Where the Heart Is.” Spotify. https://open.spotify.com/track/00iXlZ8jMVxSrxXvQomYU1?si=bc30cd253fc448f3

Roxborough, Scott. “Chloe Zhao, the Chinese Director Reinventing US Cinema.” Deutsche Welle (DW). 23 Apr. 2021, https://www.dw.com/en/chloe-zhao-the-chinese-director- reinventing-us-cinema/a-57296291. Accessed 22 Feb. 2022.

Trujillo, Stevie. “Off-Road, off-Grid: The Modern Nomads Wandering America's Back Country.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 4 Feb. 2021, https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2021/feb/04/modern-nomads-nomadland-van-life-us-public-lands. Accessed 7 Mar. 2022.

Nomadland. Directed by Chloé Zhao, performances by Frances McDormand, David Strathairn, Bob Wells, Linda May, Charlene Swankie, Peter Spears, Derek Endres, Tay Strathairn, Gay DeForest, Patricia Grier, Angela Reyers. Searchlight Pictures, 2021.


Arabella Cai

Arabella Cai is a sophomore majoring in Media, Culture, and Communication (MCC), and minoring in Business of Entertainment, Media, and Technology (BEMT). Born and raised in Shenzhen, China and went to high school in North Carolina, Arabella is passionate about discovering the power of cross-cultural communication to connect the world. After college, she is eager to pursue a career in the digital marketing and media management industry. In her free time, Arabella loves to sing, play the piano and the ukulele, travel with family and friends, play tennis, and take food pictures for her Instagram foodie account (@foodieeecai)! If you have similar interests, questions, or just want to connect, feel free to reach out at dc4747@nyu.edu!!

Previous
Previous

Laundry, Taxes, and Nihilism All at Once

Next
Next

Are Documentarians Liars?