Introduction
Bruce Springsteen is sad, you guys. Just in case you weren’t sure of it, director Scott Cooper plays the most obvious filmmaking hits to convey The Boss’ despair. While Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere isn’t content to be a crowd-pleasing jukebox musical, it doesn’t mean it’s in any way entertaining to watch.
As with all musical biopics, this is much more a cultivation of a specific idea rather than anything resembling the truth. The idea is straightforward: Springsteen is depressed while writing and recording his album Nebraska.
While that might resemble some sort of modicum of truth, Springsteen is an otherwise unflappable artist of the highest integrity, moral aptitude, and an unrelenting bummer. While I certainly wouldn’t encourage more of a traditional biopic, it would have at least been captivating. Instead, Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere is mostly just tedious.
Synopsis
Jeremy Allen White stars as Bruce, fresh off the success of his 1981 album, The River. Coming off his tour, he decides to retreat to his hometown in New Jersey and begins recording an intimate portrait of blue-collar desperation and despair. Guided and shielded by his longtime manager and producer Jon Landau (Jeremy Strong), the Boss tries to find something real in the raw, stripped-down music.
As Springsteen struggles to get the tracks from cassette to studio quality, he meets Faye Romano (Odessa Young), a young mother with whom he develops a relationship. All the while, Bruce struggles with the memories of his childhood between his long-suffering mother, Adele (Gaby Hoffman), and his emotionally distant and alcoholic father, Douglas (Stephen Graham).
Problems
The opening moments of Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere capture Bruce’s intense on-stage performance of “Born to Run.” There’s a real energy and vigor in this depiction, leading to the assumption of something resembling narrative flow. Unfortunately, everything slows down to a grinding halt from there on out. Springsteen is purposely isolated and wistful. There are countless shots of Springsteen alone in the woods, or on the street, or in a diner, staring off into the middle distance as he contemplates…something.
Clearly, the film wants you to connect Bruce’s past trauma to the struggles of his present, but those connective tissues are thin, at best. The numerous flashbacks to times with his father are quiet and cold, but there is no real trauma to be had between Bruce and his father. It’s more manufactured. The hereditary connection between father and son when it comes to mental health struggles is an interesting angle, but that’s not what this film is doing.
Instead, Springsteen’s sadness is just there because he feels too much. Money isn’t an issue. He seems to be dealing with celebrity pressures pretty well, and people bend over backwards to tell him how great he is. There are no real, actual issues. It’s a film of first-world problems.
Further Analysis
There is a worthy story to tell about a man who overcomes depression to make great art, but Springsteen is so unvarnished as a character. He usually just walks around with his head down, his jacket collar popped, with his hands in his pockets, trying to get to his next destination. He strictly frequents diners and cafes, and will often stare at a random person he meets. All that adds up to disingenuous storytelling.
This isn’t a recounting of history; this is a careful cultivation of personality. Much like with last year’s A Complete Unknown, his artistic merit justifies any of his behavior, though with Bruce, his behavior is just shy of being a modern-day saint. He doesn’t drink, smoke, do drugs, curse, or even raise his voice. He is spotless as a person, which in turn makes him boring.
Cast
White does what is asked of him in the role, which is mostly staring off into space. He looks enough and sounds enough like Springsteen. He certainly never disappears into the role, but frankly, there isn’t much to sink into.
Strong is part producer, part therapist, part friend, used more as a catch-all when the film needs an answer to a problem. Strong’s particular brand of acting isn’t for me, but he didn’t drive me as crazy as I was expecting him to. Clearly, both the real Springsteen and Landau were actively involved with the production.
Paul Walter Hauser shows up as the recording engineer for the Nebraska sessions, and he gets the film’s few moments of levity. Young makes much more of her characterization than what was on the page, giving layers of humanity to an otherwise one-note character of Bruce’s love interest.
Musically, I have no personal affinity or animosity towards Springsteen’s catalogue. Obviously, I am acutely aware of the hits like “Born to Run” and “Born in the U.S.A.,” but the easter eggs for the non-Bruce fan are not there. Potentially, a Bruce acolyte will come away from this film an even bigger fan of the music, but even the musical parts feel like inside baseball. Anyone who loves Springsteen was going to see this anyway. It’s not like this review would deter those fans.
Conclusion
While I commend Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere for not going down the conventional musical biopic route, they still forgot to make the film entertaining. These films need to die, especially when the subject is directly involved in production.
