But, yeah, there are dark aspects to the movie. Death, for example. Fran’s husband has died. Her town and the life she knew has died. The American Dream has died. Retirement has died. Her tire, van and dishes died. The retired man with the boat died. Deni’s elders had died. Linda May had contemplated suicide. Bob’s son had ended his life. Swankie dies.
These deaths hit us harder because they’re not stylized deaths in some melodrama or action movie. These are matter-of-fact, yeah-life’s-like-that, it’ll-happen-to-us-all-eventually deaths. Mundane deaths. These deaths are uncomfortably close to life as we experience it. These deaths are painfully familiar—especially for those of us in the latter half of life. We’ve lived long enough to lose family and friends, and our own death is a constant shadow.
Fern, Linda May, Swankie, Bob—and nearly every nomad I know—didn’t let regret, disappointment, rejection, hardship or the shadow of death paralyze them. They pushed onward. And that’s beautiful, not depressing.