Does the Bruce Springsteen biopic deliver? If you’re a fan of the Boss, does it matter?

Movie review, Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, directed by Scott Cooper, starring Jeremy Allen White. Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere is out now in theaters.

“Well they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night.” That is the opening line of the powerful song, Atlantic City, off of the album Nebraska, Bruce Springsteen’s starkly beautiful 1982 album, the creation of which is depicted in this movie. If those lyrics resonate with you, I imagine that the release of this film is already an event for you and, indeed, this is a film truly for you. For the uninitiated, Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere might be a harder sell, even for the casual Bruce fan.

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The movie captures Mr. Springsteen, played by Jeremy Allen White, at a time when he is experiencing a wave of popularity, continuing to build upon the commercial and critical success of his breakthrough 1975 album Born to Run. His 1981 tour in support of the double album The River, which spawned Bruce’s first top five hit, Hungry Heart, is just wrapping up, and the pressure from the studio executives for a follow up begins almost immediately. In a more conventional film, the narrative and conflict would be set — frog and scorpion — greedy executives want to greedy executive, while artist wants to artist. Luckily there is more here than that, the portrayals go beyond tired stereotypes. The fact that it doesn’t fully succeed in fulfilling its ambitions makes me no less thankful that they tried.

The best compliment I can bestow upon Deliver Me from Nowhere is its authenticity, which is essentially the lifeblood of Mr. Springsteen’s artistry. In a way, this authenticity may be a major reason the movie ultimately doesn’t reach as wide an audience as it should; authenticity can be lonely. The movie doesn’t spend a lot of time explaining Bruce’s inner monologue; in fact, most of the characters interacting with him spend most of their time trying to figure out what he is even attempting to do. They spend their time fecklessly attempting to pierce Bruce’s psychic force field, while he falls into an obsession of his own introspection.

So, when the movie fails to live up to that authenticity, it is all the clearer. Odessa Young plays Faye Romano, a composite character of Bruce’s love interests from the time. The problem is not Ms. Young, within the context of her scenes, she is terrific. But she is playing an idea of a character, rather than playing a real one, which is one of the pitfalls of playing a composite character. The scenes don’t seem to belong in this movie; there is a montage at one point that truly seems out of place. Her character confronts Bruce’s fall into his obsession, understandably, as he ignores her, stands her up and is generally emotionally unavailable to her. Her character deserves better, both from Bruce and from the movie. The character is essential to the storytelling though, because it is used in contrast to a more successful love story in the movie, Bruce’s relationship with Jon Landau, played by Jeremy Strong.

Jeremy Allen White as Bruce Springsteen with his band in 'Deliver Me from Nowhere;' photo courtesy of Disney — Springsteen (Jeremy Allen White) with his band in ‘Deliver Me from Nowhere;’ photo courtesy of Disney

Strong is the highlight of the movie; I felt my face light up every time he comes on screen. He plays Jon Landau with such intense warmth, a reminder that intensity does not have to be off-putting. In fact, if I had any worries going into the film, it was that a film starring Jeremy Allen White, Jeremy Strong, and with Stephen Graham as Bruce’s father, would result in an overacting face-off, but instead they channel their efforts performances that reflect the humanity of their characters. Landau in the movie is Bruce’s conduit to the outside world of business and fame. The man Bruce goes to when he needs to get things done, as well as the man who is in charge of protecting the artist that exists aside from the business. He understands that Bruce cannot exist as a successful commercial musician if he cannot simultaneously express himself artistically. Their connection is the realist thing in this movie. It is the aspect of the film that I am still reflecting on two days after seeing it. Their final scene together has such a real tenderness; these were not just business partners.

Stephen Graham, the British actor who played Al Capone in another Jersey-based entity, Boardwalk Empire, plays Bruce’s father Douglas, while Gaby Hoffman plays his mother Adele. They play their characters in the 1957 flashbacks as well as in the present scenes. The 1957 scenes are filmed beautifully in black and white and have the added depth of having the songs from Nebraska played over them. These scenes serve to ground Bruce’s emotional instability and give cause to why he feels a compulsion to purge what is inside him, essentially why he feels the need to create the introspective album that is Nebraska.

The euphemism for Bruce’s father and their relationship is complicated. More accurately it was a brutal, angry, sad, regretful, hurtful, but at times touching, relationship. We don’t necessarily get deep into their story, but we see enough to understand the pain his dad is trying to circumvent from the bottom of a shot glass. Their inability to connect is successfully conveyed in the few scenes that are offered. Bruce’s father is not depicted as a bad man, just as one overwhelmed by the world. Near the end of the movie, in 1982, he is given a scene of grace that helps fill in the totality of his character.

Where some may struggle with the movie is in the depiction of inspiration and recording of the actual album Nebraska. It is an intensely brutal, personal, stark and beautiful album. This is helpfully reflected in the relationships in the movie, particularly between Bruce and his father. It is almost like this is Bruce’s attempt to purge the demons that haunted his father, in an attempt to move on with his life, and with his music. This was something that he just could not let go of. The film also shows some of the other inspirations for the album but leaves them unexplained. Bruce is shown watching the Terrence Malick classic, Badlands, starring the young Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek, as they go on a killing spree (which was based on a true story that took place in Nebraska in 1957-1958), but if you didn’t already know what movie he is watching, the connection is lost.

There are, however, scenes shot so beautifully that any connection to the source is immaterial. A black and white scene of children running through a corn field while the music of Nebraska plays over them captures the beauty, and hidden whimsy, of the album perfectly, whether you are familiar or not. And then, of course, there is Bruce’s music. Throughout the movie there are hints of Bruce’s impending superstardom; he was already famous, but his subsequent album Born in the U.S.A. took him to new, unseen heights.

In a scene where he records a rousing demo for the song Born in the U.S.A., you understand the executives’ frustration with Bruce when he insists on shelving for later what is an obvious hit. The movie, however, does make you understand and sympathize with Springsteen’s obsession not only with the songs on Nebraska, but with how much he sacrificed to insist on maintaining its musical authenticity. While a movie about the recording and success of Born in the U.S.A. might prove more popular, it would unlikely be as emotionally resonate as this film was.