elizabeth 🌈’s review published on Letterboxd:
Some first impressions:
I think it's interesting that in the year where all of us where forced to stay in our houses, a movie that so quietly meditates on what home means to our lives was released. This one made me feel emotions I hadn't felt while watching a movie ever since I watched Terrence Malick's magical epic, The New World a few months ago. I guess that one could use the word hypnotic to describe Nomadland but that would imply that Nomadland puts you to sleep while in reality Nomadland is the kind of film that makes its viewer want to wake up and start appreciating everything that's close and dear to him/her. It's filled with grace notes: zhao's camera loves every human that appears in front of the movie's wonderful frames, capturing them so gently while they connect and love each other, while they are just living, truly breathing oxygen like its the last day of their lives. Nomadland is Chaplin's Modern Times for our sickening, materialistic modern times. Zhao documents individuals overwhelmed by their surroundings, trying to find themselves into them. It all felt like a ballet to me: the machine returns into its home and learns once again how it feels like to be a human, to be free as a bird and watch the sun set with pride and hope in your eyes and dance, get lost between the landscapes and the mist of life. Or maybe this our time's Paris, Texas(the difference being that Nomadland is not the most beautiful movie of all time): a road trip movie where the protagonist rediscovers her own identity and learns how to love herself in the process, after meeting so many fragile humans. Nomadland is a kind movie that explores a path of existence with purity oozing from every aspect of it and for that I loved it. Maybe because I am always anxious for what my future will become or maybe because i felt like I grew a year older after watching it. Either way, it's an utterly magnificent song of light, it's not a slice of life, it's the whole pie.