‘Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere’ review: a bruising boss of a biopic

H ow does an artist find meaning after success? How does he remain pure to his art form? And how does he reconcile with his past? These are just some of the questions asked by Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, a tender, thoughtful film that finally brings the legendary singer-songwriter’s story, or at least a snatch of it, to the big screen.

When we first glimpse the adult Bruce Springsteen – an electrifying performance from The Bear’s Jeremy Allen White – he’s on stage, giving a rousing rendition of ‘Born To Run’. It’s the end of tour for his 1980 album The River and he’s emotionally spent, sweat leaking from every pore. But this isn’t a film about showcasing The Boss at his triumphant, fist-pumping best.

Adapted from the 2023 book by Warren Zanes, Scott Cooper’s film is an anti-biopic. Just a sliver – albeit a crucial one – of the remarkable career enjoyed by Springsteen since his 1973 debut album Greetings From Asbury Park is documented here. Cooper chronicles the making of 1982’s Nebraska, the sixth and most personal album of Springsteen’s career. Arriving two years before Born In The U.S.A. turned him into a global superstar, this stark LP about isolation and desolation was a defiant gear change.

In Deliver Me From Nowhere, Springsteen is spun out, tortured, depressed, near-suicidal even. He’s haunted by memories of his New Jersey upbringing with his drunken, violent father (Stephen Graham). “It’s hard coming home,” he mutters and there’s a sense that – like most great artists – he must confront his demons. Retreating, he hooks up with engineer Mike Batlan (Paul Walter Hauser) and starts to lay down songs, imperfections and all, in his bedroom, recording on a four-track TEAC 144.

What emerges is a raw cry from Springsteen’s soul. Or as he puts it: “Trying to find something real in the noise.” Alongside him, producer Jon Landau (Jeremy Strong) aims to keep the record company off The Boss’ back. Not easy when he’s also simultaneously crafting tracks for what will become Born In The U.S.A. (one splendid sequence sees Springsteen and the E Street Band laying down the title track, a song in all its pomp that seems a million miles from the anguish of Nebraska).

Cooper has been here before with Crazy Heart, the 2009 tale which won Jeff Bridges an Oscar for his portrayal of a fading country music star. Here, Allen White fits the part as snugly as a pair of worn Levi’s 501s. Performing all the classics, it’s a quietly soulful turn. Fittingly, there are no cliché moments of rock-star excess. Instead, Allen White’s almost-shy Springsteen casually romances (mostly fictional) single mother Faye (Odessa Young), a temporary grounding force in his life.

The film isn’t flawless; Stephen Graham’s ageing make-up in the 1982 sequences, when he and his son reconnect, is jarring. But this is a rare misstep in an otherwise unvarnished film about the price of artistic integrity. Those 10 tracks on Nebraska become a lifeline for Springsteen, described as “the only thing I can still believe in” at a point where his inner world was imploding. What Deliver Me From Nowhere shows well is just how commercial success was a distant second to Springsteen – a man who had no choice but to rip those Nebraska songs from his wounded heart.