We have Rocketman and A Complete Unknown to blame for the idea that actors playing musicians can actually nail the gig. Gone are the days of dodgy impressions (apologies to Val Kilmer’s Jim Morrison and André 3000’s Jimi Hendrix) and in their place are films that replace the concept of rock stars as infallible Gods with messy human beings.
Whereas A Complete Unknown painted Bob Dylan as a grumpy fuckboy, Deliver Me from Nowhere digs into Bruce Springsteen’s bout with depression and the childhood trauma from which it stemmed, as well as his fastidious dedication to (arguably) his finest album, 1982’s moody Nebraska.
As a living, loving portrait of blue collar Americana, Deliver Me from Nowhere excels. The late-night diners, faded fairgrounds, and classic cars are gloriously, richly rendered while black-and-white flashbacks to Springsteen’s youth and original are shot with all the misery of Dorothea Lange’s Depression-era portraits.
Jeremy Allen White also slips into Springsteen’s Levi’s with ease. From his spot-on incidental grunts to the uncanny singing voice, it’s clear that White has put in the work, even if it’s sometimes hard to unsee Carmy from The Bear (not least because both characters are unrepentant fans of a James Dean-worthy white t-shirt and denim combo). Alas, Springsteen’s misery means that White never really stretches himself, his facial expression is either sad, brooding, or a glum combo of the two.
If you want American gothic with a side of pancakes, you’ve come to the right place
So much narrative weight is also placed on the commercial risk of releasing the acoustic Nebraska, but the audience knows it was a hit (unsurprisingly, seeing it remains full of bangers), thus removing any hint of jeopardy. Springsteen’s obsession with replicating his bedroom demos for the final release seems a little inside baseball, too. Do we really need this much detail about the fiddly studio process? Perhaps not.
Other moments rankle. Faye (Black Rabbit’s Odessa Young), a single mother and waitress who Springsteen has a brief fling with, seems more like a character from a Springsteen song than his actual life, while loose ends are picked at but never answered. Is Nebraska the symptom or the cause of depression? Will manager John Landau’s (Jeremy Strong) wife (Grace Gummer) ever get a speaking line?
That said, there is plenty here to love. Springsteen lying on the floor and blasting out the confrontational sound of Suicide’s ‘Frankie Teardrop’; the heroic studio recording of ‘Born In the USA’ with a gleeful, beaming Marc Maron in the producer’s chair; and endless shots of White in a perfectly-fitting leather jacket. If you want American gothic with a side of pancakes, you’ve come to the right place.
In cinemas worldwide Fri Oct 24.