Like other titles of Alexander Payne films, Nebraska is not a destination, or the goal. Nebraska is the beginning of a narrative that loops back on itself, positing that there is little difference in the repetition of generations. This is never more apparent than when generations of Grant men sit in Ray Grant’s (Rance Howard) home, silently watching television, with a beer near a hand and a blank stare brought on by hours of indoctrinated ennui.
A jibing conversation about how long it took David Grant to drive from South Dakota continues despite seemingly infinite pauses that would distract even the most juvenile antagonizers. Nebraska – the film and the movie – is shot in a brilliant black and white with expansive landscapes, but there is a persistent melancholy that traps middle America in a time decades ago despite the span of generations. David (Will Forte) is frustrated and discouraged by a salesman in a stereo store. With the ubiquity of MP3s and personal devices, David exists in an anachronistic industry, and, in his thirties, he is out of sync with the younger generation that flits in and out of the store.
At the same time, Woody (Bruce Dern), David’s booze-addled father is determined to make it to Nebraska to claim the million dollars that he believes he’s won through sweepstakes. From the beginning it’s apparent that Woody is convinced by a marketing scam akin to the likes of Publisher’s Clearing House. We know he won’t win; most people around him know he won’t win. And maybe he even knows, but the faux-gilded flyer announcing that he “is a winner” provides an excuse to travel, which also prompts David to leave his own rut.
Woody’s “prize” in itself is contradictory when seen as a lens on Woody’s life. It at once inspires agency, something that we learn has not been part of Woody’s life. Throughout, Woody is seen as a dilapidated man, suffering from years of alcoholism. He is henpecked and belittled by his wife Kate (June Squibb) and believed to be an abusive alcoholic by his sons David and Ross (Bob Odenkirk). But this is all relayed through other people. Through most of the film, Woody is silent with the exception of grunts and confused questions about what was said or what is being done.
We also find that he was a pilot shot down in the Korean War, something that not even David knows about. Perhaps there’s a commentary here on PTSD, but it seems more plausible that the commentary is about agency – or allowing others to control your agency. Woody, a soldier did what he was told to do. Being shot down seemed to be part and parcel. Woody got married because he “liked to screw,” which is also why he had children. Ironically, his ”prize” allows him to claim something for his own, but it similarly makes him a tool when he approaches the secretary in the disheveled office piled high with papers and magazines to claim it.
Instead of a million dollars, Woody leaves with a gimmicky, cheap ball cap and his faith in humanity is once again diluted. Woody is the man always trying to do what he’s told but without the gumption to stand up for himself or the belief that he’s being taken advantage of. There’s a nefarious arc throughout that paints the rather righteous Kate as little more than a devious, conniving trollop, and this makes us wonder whether Woody is booze-addled, or whether he’s just tired of hobbling through the circuit.
