All language subtitles for Nomadland The Secret Behind Its Shots

Merch.

One thing that really stood out to me
from watching Chloé Zhao's new film,

Nomadland,
is that almost every scene involving

a character is shot in eye level,
closeup on the surface.

It makes sense

because most of the characters
are non-actors, and shots like this

go well with the realistic documentary
like atmosphere, the film admits.

It also puts a lot of emphasis
on the character's inner state,

which readily creates empathy
and a sense of emotional connection

that's needed to maximize
the film's intended tone.

But then we get a shot like this.

In fact, we get a lot of these
when Fern is on screen.

There are different reasons
for central framing.

A character in wider shots can be used
to create tension, order and even humor.

But in Nomadland, it's primarily used to
highlight Fern's surroundings

as the film's most compelling
stories are told not from a person,

but through the spaces that surround her.

As much as it may seem that way at first,

nomadic lifestyle
isn't a form of escapism for fern,

but of genuine liberation
from the past grief and loss.

Indoor spaces are often cluttered
with documents packed with people

and either shot under dark lightings
or, at best, monotonic fluorescent lamps,

generating a sense of suffocation
and enslavement to the characters within

the camera will often move frantically
lacking a certainty and focus

and will always accent the enclosing walls

and ceilings before accenting the intimacy
between characters.

On the contrary,
every scene of Fern's nomadic

adventure is organized and controlled.

We move on from the hectic movement
of the camera

to more composed
and stabilized shots of outdoors.

The flavorless tone of the office
is replaced with vibrant colors

of nature
objects, and people are more spaced out,

allowing the characters and the audience
some room to breathe and observe.

And even when they're closely gathered.

The openness of the space around them
only intensifies their shared affection.

No matter how

big the space and how caring the people,
Fern will always seem trapped

when indoors.

But this isn't to say that

the scenes featuring enclosed
areas are irrelevant to her journey.

For one, the shot compositions
remain rather consistent

for all scenes,
regardless of the location.

After all, there are scenes like this
where everything is

quite flat and oppressive
despite taking place outdoors.

Because Fern is technically working,
not exploring,

it's best to consider them
as a repeating pattern

of contradictions
that reaffirm the beauty of nature.

And to be more precise as
a visual extension of friends character.

And that's why the shots
that feature indoors

and outdoors simultaneously
are especially striking to the eyes

and are only reserved for the most pivotal
junctures of the film.

Speaking of the film's transformative
points, there are five

major scenes of Fern on the road
that are similarly paced and composed.

Each moment acts
as Fern's visual advocate,

painting her indescribable state of mind
through the beauty of nature.

As for an introspect
about her own motives and desires

and eventually comes to terms with her
past, the scenes make a full cycle

starting from dawn
all the way to evening until eventually

going back to where it began
with each stage of the day.

And as Fern advances
with her personal evolution.

The scenery progressively
becomes more beautiful

and sentimental.

At first,
everything is dull and uneventful.

Every aspect of nature falls
under a unifying

color scheme
and gets lost in the sea of aridity.

Exactly like Fern herself,
who lacks confidence in her life path.

But as

Fern opens up to the world
and to the people around her,

the neighboring spaces display
more unique characteristics with tunnels,

animals, rivers and a vivid set of colors
that distinguish herself

from the previous image.

The tranquility of the setting Sun
reflects Fern's

determination
to move past her pain and start anew,

and the echoing image of the dawn signals

a new chapter in her life.

The very objective spaces
therefore function to portray

the very subjective expressions
of fern remodeling the surroundings

to something unique to her,
and inviting the audience to simply watch

and assimilate
this melancholic silhouette of life.

It's like my dad used to say,

What's remembered lives.

Therefore,

the film, like the rising
and setting of the Sun, also looks to be

in a loop, repeating itself with the same
set of images over and over again.

But as we've seen, these vital
images of nature

are constantly maturing
and thus never identical.

As a matter of fact.

Everything in Nomadland
is evolving with time.

No matter how similar they may appear,

they reiterate
the value of living for yourself

and not complying to the social standards.

They reinforce Fern's growing
internal freedom,

and at times they hint at her estrangement
from society.

As people describe the significance
of leaving traces

of their memories on their body
with tattoos, we intrinsically understand

that Fern has no interest
in such reminders.

Instead, she wishes to become that
very trace itself,

the trace of existence
within the infinitely grand universe.

Like how the atoms of the stars
that blew up eons ago

can be in our hands in the present.

And like how an ordinary household item
can carry stories of people

through a time.

She hopes to feel that eternity

the universe offers through nature.

Indeed, there are trees

bigger than our eyes can see
and older than our history can tell.

Sharing can be a

stinging step
as sharp as the thorns on a cactus,

but a step that eventually heals.

We are about a speck of dust

in our lives, a dot on a piece of paper.

And Fern realizes this secret.

We only missed the subtle differences
in the repeating scenes because

we don't know how to look for them.

And so Nomadland offers a chance to learn

and tells us
that we too can find moments of perfection

if we cherish the smaller things and just

look.

Shall I compare them to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely, more temperate.

So we look to shake the darling
as Fern recites

Shakespeare's Sonnet 18,
teaching us of her past life.

We recall the quote that was told to
the audience in the beginning of the film.

You remember anything

that we worked on when I told you?

Yes. The soliloquy from Macbeth.

A story of how life is painfully short,
exhausting and meaningless.

Future holds
no aspirations and the present, no joy.

But as the speech itself implies,
life is still full of action and events,

no matter how bleak and empty.

Fern eventually finds purpose
through these tedious episodes of life.

Learning to live for the day.

Given that the day to be

tomorrow

and tomorrow and tomorrow and all of our
yesterdays have lighted fools

the way to dusty death out a candle.

Her home has vanished
the moment she lost her husband.

Just like how Macbeth has lost his love.

But from the start,
the film was telling us that

no matter how sad her journey is
and where her next destination is,

she is going home.

Hello, everyone.

Thanks for watching my video.

Nomadland is probably

one of my favorite films of the year,
so if you haven't watched it

and somehow still got to this point,
I highly recommend you watch it.

And apart from that,
merch is available right now

at Viacom slash store slash speak.

Emma.

We're doing a two weeks launch special.

So if you are a self-proclaimed cinephile
or if you just want to support my work,

you can check out the link below
and get your hoodie t shirts

or the lovely makeup
you saw in the beginning

for reduced prices
for the first two weeks.

So thanks again for watching.

And that's it for me.