I pretty much got into being a Bruce Springsteen fan relatively recently, I even went to see his last concert last year, so I was eagerly waiting to see this film. And to be honest, I was predisposed to liking it. Not just because of my growing love for all things Bruce, but because Jeremy Allen White, who plays Springsteen, and Jeremy Strong, as his manager Jon Landau, are two of my favorite actors working right now.
Written and directed by Scott Cooper (Crazy Heart), Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere takes us into what happened after his 1980 tour in support of The River. Worn out and looking to slow down, he rents a place in Colts Neck, New Jersey, where it’s quiet, wooded, and peaceful, with birds chirping outside. But his label at CBS Records wants a new album, and they want it fast.
Settling back near where he grew up starts to recharge him, but inspiration doesn’t really strike until one late night when he catches Terrence Malick’s Badlands (1973) on TV. That film sparks something. With a few new songs in hand, he calls up his friend Mike (Paul Walter Hauser) to help record them using this new 4-track tape technology. They figure the sound won’t be great but at least they’ll get the songs down.
Meanwhile, he’s occasionally showing up for jam sessions at The Stone Pony, where he meets Faye (Odessa Young). The two connect, or at least connect as much as he can in his current headspace.
When he brings the songs to Landau, they’re a million miles away from upbeat hits like ‘Hungry Heart’. But Landau believes in him and the project, going to bat against skeptical execs who can’t imagine releasing a stripped-down record without publicity, singles, or a tour. Bruce just wants the album to speak for itself.
Recording the tracks in the studio proves tricky, trying to recreate the lo-fi, intimate sound of those first home demos is seemingly impossible.
The film itself mirrors that process: quiet, raw, introspective. Like Nebraska, the album it depicts, Deliver Me From Nowhere feels like a moody reflection on a man at a crossroads. Springsteen had been going at it for so long that once he finally stopped, the silence brought nothing but thoughts… and not the good kind.
His father (Stephen Graham) looms large over those thoughts. He’s drunk, violent, and terrifying. Shot in black-and-white flashbacks, we feel the tension and dread young Bruce (Matthew Anthony Pellicano Jr.) lives through. There’s one scene where he finally stands up to his father, grabbing a baseball bat to protect his mother (Gabby Hoffman). Everything stops and Graham’s stare says everything.
When White is on stage performing, he channels Bruce’s animalistic joy, that pure, electric energy you’ve seen before when you’ve watched him But offstage, at least in this part of his life, we can see how almost pained real life is for him. Talk about a tortured poets’ society. White does a great job channeling Springsteen and after the first few minutes you kind of feel that you’re watching the real guy, gravelly voice and all. He’s even got that walk down as he throws his clenched fit inside his leather jacket, hunkering down to walk the boardwalk of the Jersey Shore or streets New York City.
And Jeremy Strong… what can’t he do? Every role he’s in he’s just bonkers terrific. His Landau is part manager, part father figure, part prophet and more importantly, he’s the dad Springsteen never had. His love for him is unconditional, but he never sugarcoats a thing.
Odessa Young’s Faye is a standout too. She’s a single mom living with her parents, and she brings so much warmth and authenticity to the role. She’s apparently a composite of a few real-life women from Springsteen’s past, but you believe every bit of her performance. By the end, you’ll want to yell at the screen: “Why are you letting this one go?”
The film hints at Springsteen’s depression, though that aspect doesn’t fully land until late in the story. In hindsight, you can see it, but I wish Cooper had let us feel that darkness earlier. We understand his demons, especially with his father, his isolation, but the emotional weight takes a while to settle in.
Still, Cooper doesn’t force anything, either in the story or his direction. He gives his actors room to breathe and scenes time to unfold. That restraint matches the tone of Nebraska, where some might find it slow, but others will find it deeply moving. For me, it’s a film about creativity and self-doubt, and in that aspect, he nails it.
