Bruce Springsteen Biopic in Theaters: Biker Boots, Jeans and Leather Jacket

Freehold, New Jersey, 1957: A quiet, somewhat shy boy is sent by his mother to fetch his drunken father from the pub. The little boy would later become one of the greatest rock stars and singer-songwriters in the United States, whose lyrics, like no other, tell the stories of the American Working Class. It is Bruce Springsteen.

The black-and-white opening scene of “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” initially suggests another classic biopic about the life of a superstar, as has often been done for the big screen. But the film by American director Scott Cooper, whose successful debut film “Crazy Heart” already centered on a musician, is different, special. A biopic that isn’t really a biopic, so to speak.

It is not the story of grinding through to the big breakthrough, as in the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown” (2024), or about the struggle of the aspiring musician with managers, record companies and dealing with fans, alcohol and drugs as in “Elvis” (2022), for example.

Instead, it is a personal, almost intimate excerpt from Springsteen’s life before his major breakthrough with “Born in the USA” in 1984. A contemplative, unhurried retelling of the creative phase of his sixth album: “Nebraska.” Incidentally, some songs that would later become part of “Born in the USA” were also created during this time.

The film targets fans of the “Boss.” Not only in terms of the soundtrack. Because the more one knows about his life and work, the more one recognizes in the film: For example, his long-time manager, producer and good friend Jon Landau (played by Jeremy Strong) appears, and of course the E Street Band or places like the legendary “The Stone Pony” in Asbury Park, New Jersey. All without much context.

Unsicher, wo er eigentlich hingehört

Moreover, it is the story of a musician in his early thirties who, on the path to fame, wrestles with depression, anxiety, and the question of where he actually belongs. In life, but also musically.

“I know who you are,” says the used-car salesman where he buys his first own sports car at the start of the film—a Chevrolet Camaro. “At least one of us,” Springsteen replies.

“Deliver Me From Nowhere” is based on the book of the same name by music journalist Warren Zanes and is set in 1981: Bruce Springsteen has already released five albums, the record company, manager, and the team around him sense the big breakthrough to rock star. Yet Springsteen returns after his successful “The River” tour to near his hometown in New Jersey. And there, in his bedroom, he records a demo tape with acoustic guitar and blues harp on a four-track tape machine.

The dark, pared-down recording with a DIY character convinces him so much that it should become his album “Nebraska.” The songs that Springsteen writes in the film, a bit too cleanly with a marker on white paper and hardly any corrections, are a search for identity. And as so often with him, a single road trip through the lost American Dream.

On the living room carpet

In the remaining time, Springsteen roams around his hometown, rarely answers the phone, becomes fascinated by serial killer Charles Starkweather, whose story he then tells in the song “Nebraska,” or lies lost in thought on the living room carpet while a record plays the synth-pop of “Suicide.” “Why?” he writes in his notes, albeit in a somewhat blunt way.

It’s not easy to make a film that mainly deals with inner struggles and doubts. The atmosphere is quite oppressive, were it not for a few friends around him who believe in him and give him space, but who, in their own desperation, bring some humorous moments. And yet “Deliver Me From Nowhere” is not an explosive drama with a strong tension arc, but a film you have to engage with.

Springsteen is played by Jeremy Allen White (“The Bear: King of the Kitchen”). And even though the “Boss” remains, for most fans, irreplaceable, White does a truly solid job. Notably, he sings the Springsteen songs in the film himself and interprets them. And quite impressively: when, in a concert scene on stage, he sweats his soul out and, with a Telecaster around his neck, belts into the microphone, you might take it for an original recording.

The truth is not always beautiful

Even the Boss himself seems satisfied with the cinematic portrayal. Because Springsteen, who had always resisted a film about himself, was this time not only agreeable to the shoot but – and this makes the film especially – he is said to have often come to the set and offered notes on what it looked like in that bedroom where he lived, wrote, and recorded.

During filming, it is said he told Scott Cooper: “The truth about yourself isn’t always beautiful; show it.” The film attempts this and, among other things, touches on the difficult relationship with his father. A love story is, of course, present as well, but it isn’t mawkish; it shows Springsteen torn, fear-averse, withdrawn, and not exactly at his best.

We would like to show you an external content here. You decide
whether you want to view this element as well:

At the same time, this chapter of his life includes one of the most productive phases of his career. In the film, the young Springsteen says he doesn’t even know where all the “Nebraska” songs come from. He doesn’t let the viewer get too close after all. The repeatedly returned black-and-white flashbacks to Springsteen’s childhood also feel a bit contrived, even cheesy, and thereby distant.

Also cheesy is the film’s stereotyped American aesthetics: There is diner-filtered coffee, small-town bustle, a motorcycle mechanic, Chevys in parking lots, and covered songs by Little Richard. And not to forget: cowboy boots, jeans, and leather jackets. It’s so cliché that it probably sits very close to reality.

It seems the film’s approach in this respect mirrors Springsteen’s songs as well; even “Born in the USA,” with its Stars-and-Stripes aesthetic, is anything but USA-glorifying.