Nick Britton’s review published on Letterboxd:
There is something about standing in the middle of the desert, the Badlands or southern Arizona or middle-of-nowhere Nevada, and taking it all in. You can't replicate it in a city, and that's what's at the heart of Nomadland. The "tyranny of capitalism," as one person so succinctly puts it, doesn't allow for that. Freedom to roam the countryside is antithetical to how we're supposed to live. Even if the sense of brotherhood among strangers is overdone here, it still must exist, because for fuck’s sake, life doesn't have to be a competition to crush someone else.
As someone who spent a lot of time traveling all the nooks and crannies of the West and is now trapped on the East Coast, this movie just spoke to me, just absolutely kept me up last night, just made me wonder if I'll ever get to do this. I know shit-all about cars, service jobs terrify me, and I don't like smoking or coffee. But goddamn do I love the West and the desert and stopping the car on the side of some gravel road to nowhere and getting out and just feeling the wind and the sound of nothing.