Hey, somebody out there –
from “State Trooper” by Bruce Springsteen (from here)
Listen to my last prayer
“Hi ho, Silver, oh!”
Deliver me from nowhere
It’s the last line of a lesser-known Springsteen song, a desperate prayer from someone who knows they’re in trouble. I’ve prayed that prayer, and I’d guess you have too when that familiar silhouette appears in the rearview mirror. But for Bruce, and for this movie, that prayer is about more than a speeding ticket.
On the surface, Deliver Me from Nowhere is the story behind how Bruce Springsteen got to release an album as unique as Nebraska. It’s a movie about art: about not letting ‘the man’ pull you over and compromise your integrity. But Springsteen has said, “If I had to pick one album out and say this is going to represent you 50 years from now, I’d pick Nebraska.”
Not the breakout Born to Run. Not the single-machine, Born in the USA. But Nebraska–the stark, quiet and often dark album I had on cassette four decades ago.
Clearly, something deeper is going on.
Mansion on the Hill
The crux of this movie, for me, is a question I’ve asked myself: What do you do when by all external measures you should be happy, but you’re not?
We enter the story at the should part. Springsteen has just come off a successful tour. His record company is excited for his next album–unlike previous times (see my thoughts on the book Welcome to Jungleland). He has a hit playing on the radio, and his first new car. It’s all going well, but…
The promise of the mansion on the hill may not solve everything. .
You’ve been there, right? I have.
There comes a time when all the things we do to outrun the sadness stop working, and there is no place left to go. You have to face it, confront it, deal with it. For Bruce that happens in a rented bedroom in Colts Neck, NJ with an acoustic guitar, a notepad, an Echoplex, and a 4-track recorder.
My Father’s House
Everything, it seems, reminds him of earlier days, for which there is little nostalgia. His unresolved feelings toward his father won’t leave him alone.
On Pop Culture Happy Hour’s episode about the movie, host Linda Holmes makes a great observation:
it is so common–not just in biopics and true stories, but in movies in general–it is so common to see somebody struggling and struggling with what is obviously depression and trauma and, you know, generational trauma and problems from their relationships with their parents, and see it resolve through some combination of catharsis, right? Going and kind of having it out with the person or forgiving the person or talking to a romantic interest, and that person tells you to get it together or get over it, and whatever. In this, he goes to the doctor.
There’s something powerful about seeing a rock icon choose therapy over theatrics–it’s more real than that. That’s part of the draw for me. This movie isn’t about a rock-star, but a person dealing with the pain of past hurts.
Reason to Believe
Is the movie any good? I honestly have no idea.
For a fan like me, it was very cool: seeing how the lyrics evolved, how the struggle mattered, how Springsteen stayed true to himself, his ear, his vision. I even got to see a depiction of Asbury Park in the 80s–a place I’d been many times.
On its own as a movie, though? I’ve seen the mixed reviews. Maybe people want the cliche, the victorious ending that is impossible to relate to unless you too have played Wembley Stadium, a la Bohemian Rhapsody or Rocketman. Instead, we get an indie-feeling movie with a big star and budget about an indie-feeling album from a big star with a big budget.
I don’t know. Sounds about right to me.