Like most musical biopics, how you feel about Bruce Springsteen will shape how you feel about “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.”
If you have his lyrics tattooed on your body and instinctively yell “Bruuuuuuuuuuce!” at any concert or social gathering, you are going to love this movie. Likewise, if you don’t like Springsteen’s music or his vibe, you will definitely not like this movie. Both parties are free to stop reading now. I have nothing else to offer you.
But what about the rest of us in the squishy middle? I, for one, respect Bruce Springsteen more than I consider myself a fan of his work. He’s an excellent songwriter, but I can’t get myself too excited for anything beyond his greatest hits.
So what, then, does “Deliver Me From Nowhere” have to say to the casual fan about Springsteen and his music?
First and foremost, Bruce is in his feelings. Exceptionally played by the soulful Jeremy Allen White, Springsteen is portrayed as moody and withdrawn, just as he is reaching his peak of creative and commercial success.
Coming off of a world tour, Bruce returns to his stomping grounds in New Jersey rents a house in the woods and does a lot of brooding between watching Terrence Malick movies and paging through Flannery O’Connor short stories. Bruce should be considered a founding member of the Tortured Poets Department.
Being home leads Bruce to confront some childhood demons, namely his clinically depressed, alcoholic, mildly-abusive father (Stephen Graham). To get even more in touch with his blue-collar roots, he starts to date a single mother who works at a diner (Odessa Young), and is a fictional amalgam of several women Springsteen dated at the time.
This is all in service of Bruce spending hours alone in his bedroom recording the album “Nebraska,” which is the Bible and barrier to entry for Springsteen true believers.
Writer/director Scott Cooper takes great pains to paint Bruce as a lone-wolf musical genius. The E Street Band totally gets the shaft here. Sorry Stevie Van Zandt, Clarence Clemons and Max Weinberg, you’re not even getting speaking parts in Bruce’s movie!
Who does get to do a lot of speaking is Bruce’s manager/producer Jon Landau (Jeremy Strong), who has multiple scenes with his nameless wife (who I’m pretty sure doesn’t have a single line) where he explains in great detail to her and the audience what a bold and daring musical departure this is for Bruce, or how deeply personal and raw the songs on “Nebraska” are. The art is certainly not allowed to speak for itself.
What’s missing the most in “Deliver Me From Nowhere” is joy, which is very much present in Bruce’s music and his legendary live performances. We get glimpses onstage where White brilliantly channels Bruce’s energy and vocals – the qualities that made his concerts a celebration – before we’re shoved back into the darkness and torment.
Recency makes it easy to compare “Deliver Me From Nowhere” to the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown,” which did plenty of its own mythmaking but also showed multiple dimensions to its subject. Hey, Dylan was a genius, but he was also kind of a jerk.
“Deliver Me From Nowhere” is only interested in a one-note Springsteen, and he’s kind of a drag. Even the recording of “Born in the USA,” which is the highlight of the movie and a song with more cultural impact and resonance than anything on “Nebraska,” is treated more as an obligatory chore.
The same guy who recorded “Atlantic City” also recorded “Pink Cadillac.” The real Bruce contains multitudes and deserved a better movie.
“Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” is rated PG-13 for thematic material, some sexuality, strong language and smoking.
