The film tells the story of Woody Grant, a man facing a bad track due to his addiction in Nebraska. Woody is rewarded but deceitfully accompanied by his son David.
Everything about Nebraska feels secondhand. It's a gimmicky sitcom script gussied up with 'artful' affectations borrowed from the New Hollywood heyday of the early '70s.
It may take some time to realise how special this gritty and unsentimental examination of family dynamics and Payne's home state is, but Nebraska is worth the patience.
Forever typecast as nutjobs and con artists, Dern's Woody Grant is a little chubby, a little bewildered, and a lot unkempt. He's grizzled, resigned, and wonderful, and so is the film.
Dern's line delivery alone - all of his lines are delivered as if he was just awakened from a deep sleep, a flashlight thrust in his face - is worth the price of admission,
[Payne has] made an "American Gothic" for 21st-century, post-recession America. Who needs a pitchfork anyway, when you can have an ice cold bottle of Bud?