Why the Bruce Springsteen Biopic Wasn’t Boss at the Box Office

Most rock biopics end with a triumphant performance — a symbolic onstage conquering of demons, whether at Folsom Prison (by Johnny Cash in Walk the Line), Live Aid (Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody) or the 1965 Newport Folk Festival (Dylan, A Complete Unknown). It’s the obvious emotional payoff: Performers are at their best while performing, and the energy of an onscreen audience can raise that of the one in the theatre.

The new Bruce Springsteen film, Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, doesn’t end like that, though. It ends with Springsteen breaking down in a psychiatrist’s office. And the closest it gets to a concert finale is a “10 months later” epilogue, set backstage after a show, when an adult Springsteen sits on his father’s knee as they begin to come to terms with the fractures in their relationship.

In other words, Deliver Me From Nowhere, which opened Oct. 24, is a very small story about a very big rock star. It takes place in less than a year, at a turning point in Springsteen’s career when he was already playing arenas but before Born in the U.S.A. made him a global superstar. Most of the story unfolds in and around a house Springsteen rented in Colts Neck, New Jersey, and on the surface it’s the story of how he made the downcast, acoustic album Nebraska. But it’s really about a man struggling to come to terms with his past — especially his relationship with his troubled father — in a way that will help him navigate his future. Rolling Stone columnist Rob Sheffield describes the film as “a whole movie of men talking about Bruce Springsteen’s problems, one of whom is Bruce.”

I’m a big Springsteen fan, and I loved the movie. If you’re a fan, it tells the story of an interesting time: Springsteen finished the tour for The River in fall 1981, released an acoustic album that sounded different from anything else he had done a year later, and reemerged in spring 1984 as a buff megastar with what would become one of the best-selling albums of the 1980s. The best source of information about this time is Warren Zanes’ compelling 2023 book Deliver Me From Nowhere: The Making of Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska, on which the movie is based. By rock biopic standards, Deliver Me From Nowhere is extremely accurate — and the only composite character seems to be a single mom that Springsteen dates.

Deliver Me From Nowhere is the movie Nebraska deserves, maybe even the one it demands, which is to say nuanced and a bit uncommercial. Recorded at home on a four-track machine and barely produced, Nebraska sounded like nothing else out there in 1982 — the closest sonic comparisons would have been old folk recordings or the lo-fi indie rock that was to come. Deliver Me From Nowhere is the only movie this year that nods to Flannery O’Connor’s stories and Terrence Malick’s Badlands — and perhaps the only movie ever to include Suicide’s “Frankie Teardrop,” a song so abrasive that in the movie it takes recording engineer Mike Batlan aback.

This makes Deliver Me From Nowhere a very different kind of film from a business perspective. Part of the point of most rock movies is to boost streaming, which worked incredibly well for the Queen and Dylan catalogs. (Deliver Me From Nowhere is accompanied by a deluxe reissue of Nebraska, and it will boost streaming as well.) But those movies made an implicit argument for the importance of those acts by showing them at their biggest and best.

Deliver Me From Nowhere includes songs that people who aren’t Springsteen fans wouldn’t know, in a style that the artist isn’t widely known for. Springsteen is at his best onstage, and he has an appealing, self-deprecating sense of humor. But the movie doesn’t really show him performing, and the emotional crisis he’s suffering saps his sense of humor. That may have made the film a harder sell. After two weeks in theaters, it has grossed $16 million in the United States and $30 million worldwide, which is very respectable but less than predicted.

Deliver Me From Nowhere works for the same reason Nebraska does — it’s raw and real. There were easy ways to make this simpler and more accessible, from ending with the release of Born in the U.S.A. to making the record executives the bad guys. (They were generally skeptical but supportive.) To its credit, though, the movie doesn’t go there, which was the right decision.

By the early ’90s, Nebraska had emerged as the Springsteen album for alt-rock fans who thought they were too cool for Born in the U.S.A., and Zanes points out in his book how influential it was on indie rock. Deliver Me From Nowhere will last for the same reasons — moreso if actors Jeremy Allen White (Springsteen) or Jeremy Strong (manager Jon Landau) are nominated for acting awards — and it shows that rock movies can work on a character-driven scale. If you care about Springsteen, though, see it now.