NOMADLAND (2020)

Watched NOMADLAND (2020) and even if l was not particularly taken by it, l find myself thinking of it, so let’s share.

First, this is a Buddhist film which quietly asserts liberating oneself from formalised social structures and celebrates ‘living in the now’, and in that l appreciate its message. It is yet another film in the long tradition of road (or, better, ‘roaming’) movies, in this instance filmed with a filter that gives it a dusty blueish hue in embracing the majestic beauty of Mid- and South West expansive landscapes. It made me think of films such as INTO THE WILD (2007) and WILD (2014), but its documentary aesthetics and implicit critique of neoliberal capitalism also brought to mind films such as MANUFACTURED LANDSCAPES (2006) and AMERICAN FACTORY (2019).

The nomad protagonists of the film — most of who play themselves — may have been pushed into their peripatetic lifestyle by the vissisitudes of predatory capitalism but have now unreservedly embraced the itinerant lifestyle. They can no longer be confined; they no longer feel well under a solid roof and do not care for fresh linen, scented soaps or candles.

At one point — while dancing in a pub — one of them exclaims, ‘we are American Gypsies.’ And indeed they are — having seen dozens of films about true Gypsies (or Romanies, as one should call them) l can confirm that a lot of what l see in NOMADLAND are the same key motives of Roma-themed films: rejection of conformism, living outside rigid social structures, drifting…

But in here also lies my problem with NOMADLAND. It is a film about white people* that have turned Gypsies (implying they would not normally do so), about characters who continue pondering — even with a progressively lessening attachment — over a possible return to a settled lifestyle behind a white picket fence. The unspoken norm is that even if they now embrace the wayfarer lifestyle they would not have normally chosen it, they have been pushed into it.

I have not seen the other films of Chloe Zhao, so this is my first exposure to her work. I notice that everywhere she is listed as Chinese (not even Chinese-American) even though she does not seem to have lived in China since she was a teenager, and all of her education and work is in the West. In this vein, I am intrigued — in the case of NOMADLAND — by the politics of awards (a sphere in which l like to exercise scrutiny).

The film received the top award at the Venice Film Festival in 2020 — the only festival that managed to take place live even if in a paired-down format. Venice is notorious for its traditional exclusion of women who, according to their selectors, do not seem to have delivered good work over the years — yet in 2020 Venice IFF made a big push to redeem themselves and had over 40% of films in competition directed by women. This is the first time ever that the Golden Lion went to a female director, and it is even a more progressive sign that the director is Chinese and not a Westerner.

Next we see the film nominated in the Golden Globes, and there is talk it is a candidate for a top Oscar. I think there is a fair chance for this film to win, what precisely l cannot say. Indeed, a win for NOMADLAND would tick many of the right boxes, namely: A. It will be a triumph of indie Sundance aesthetics at the Academy (and, for my pleasure, it would mark an extreme departure from celebrated syrupy abominations of the type of LA LA LAND). B. Awarding Chloe Zhao would show open-mindedness, would empower female directors, and it would give a nod to Chinese creativity, a gesture that is important for the film industry in a context where China is Hollywood’s most important market whilst the new Biden administration is positioning to continuing the trade war.

I understand it was Frances McDormand who read the book by Jessica Bruder on which the film is based, then optioned it, then approached the director and pulled off the production in which she then starred. Here we go: a 63 year old actress triumphs in a role that gives her plenty of screen time and leads to well-deserved recognition. I like this creative model, as it may be one of the few approaches available to women to counter ageism: taking matters in one’s own hands.

Ah, and l nearly forgot. David Strathairn, the only other actor in the film. I think of this man — a self-deprecating professional with a long list if supporting roles to his name and a few main roles as notable exceptions — as the best looking American actor, actually.

And OMG what a white film that is. Not only were the nomads in the film all white but they did not even seem to cross paths with any Native Americans nor any other ‘others’. In my memory travelling through these same states was an experience full of encounters with people of many different backgrounds and skin tones. Even the Proud Boys are more ethnically diverse. If it was not for its Chinese director and its socially engaged theme, it would make for a prime candidate for critique on ignoring racial divides.

IGORT’S UKRAINIAN AND RUSSIAN NOTEBOOKS (2014)

Igort’s UKRAINIAN AND RUSSIAN NOTEBOOKS made for a challenging read. It is so bleak, so full of violence, wickedness, bestiality, destruction, torture, amorality, sadism, and an endless string of other evil, indiscriminate and inhuman acts of this same range of experience and emotion, that l could only read it in instalments, leaving it for some days and then forcing myself to come back and gradually finish it. A nec plus ultra in the ‘chernukha‘ genre.

The UKRAINIAN AND RUSSIAN NOTEBOOKS are nothing like Igort’s other work available in English, the JAPANESE NOTEBOOKS. In his treatise on Japan he talks of many different dimensions of Japanese life and culture, including Japanese cinema and the all-important manga tradition. He talks of Hiyao Miyazaki and Mishima, alongside condemning the murderous inhumanity of Japanese expansionism of WWII and their propaganda machine. But no culture nor artists nor cinema is mentioned anywhere in the Ukrainian/Russian notebooks (besides Anna Politkovskaya’s work and legacy) — it is all one continuous and endless saga of squalor, oppression, cruelty, and barbarism — with no end in sight, going as far back as the times of the Bolshevik revolution and coming to as recently to the Ukrainian war in 2014 and its aftermath.

Igort is a solitary and idiosyncratic cultural commentator from Italy, whose work l have come to admire and respect. I believe the book, put out in English by Simon and Schuster in 2016, should be read and used by those who teach on the former Soviet Union, alongside Timothy Snider’s BLOODLANDS (2011). Whilst navigating through this graphic novel, l could not help remembering the Soviet-themed book by another great Italian commentator, journalist Tiziano Terzani, whose 1991 GOODNIGHT MISTER LENIN also chronicles many of the inhuman aspects of the dissolving Soviet empire. Terzani also has next to nothing good to say, and depicts Russia’s Far East as inhabited by callous and numbed individuals, deprived of basic aesthetic sensitivity and suffering of massive moral shortcomings. I cannot help noticing that both Terzani and Igort are Italian. Could it be that this is how cultural types/cultural stereotypes work in reality?

And whilst Igort himself may not have referenced any films in the book, l could not help but think of many — like Aleksei Balabanov’s shattering CARGO 200 (2007) and, with its referencing of the 1930s devious role of NYT’s Moscow-based correspondent, Walter Duranty, of Agnieszka Holland’s MR JONES (2019), which chronicles the suppression of journalistic evidence at the time the Ukrainian famine, denied and actively covered-up by international media.