10 Things to Know About Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere (2025)

Inside Scott Cooper’s quiet, powerful Bruce Springsteen biopic

Directed by: Scott Cooper

Written by: Scott Cooper

Starring: Jeremy Allen White, Jeremy Strong, Stephen Graham

Release Date: October 24, 2025

Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere (2025) explores Bruce Springsteen’s creative struggle during the making of Nebraska. Directed by Scott Cooper and starring Jeremy Allen White, here are 10 things to know about this intimate, unconventional music biopic.

Bruce Springsteen’s life and career have inspired countless documentaries and performances — but Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere marks the first time his story has been told through a narrative feature film.

Directed by Scott Cooper (Crazy Heart, Hostiles), the film stars Jeremy Allen White in his first major leading role on the big screen. Instead of following the typical “rise to fame” formula, Cooper’s film focuses on the difficult, soul-searching period that led to Springsteen’s haunting 1982 album, Nebraska — a work of stripped-down poetry and creative isolation that defined a new phase of the artist’s legacy.

Here are 10 Things to Know About Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere.

1. It’s About Springsteen’s Darkest and Most Personal Album

The film centers on the making of Nebraska, a haunting lo-fi record recorded alone at home on a four-track tape deck. It explores Springsteen’s emotional state, creative doubts, and his decision to reject commercial expectations in pursuit of honesty.

2. It’s Based on Warren Zanes’s Acclaimed Book

The screenplay adapts Warren Zanes’s 2023 book Deliver Me from Nowhere: The Making of Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska. Zanes, a musician and historian, also serves as an executive producer on the film, ensuring fidelity to Springsteen’s real-life creative process.

3. Scott Cooper’s Direction Keeps It Intimate

Known for quiet, character-driven dramas, Scott Cooper brings a grounded, human approach to Springsteen’s story. Rather than glamorizing rock stardom, the film focuses on inner turmoil, artistic self-doubt, and the solitude behind the music.

4. Jeremy Allen White Has Bruce’s Blessing

Fresh off his Emmy-winning success on The Bear, Jeremy Allen White takes on the challenge of portraying “The Boss.” Reports from production say Springsteen himself supported the casting, visiting the set and personally encouraging White’s approach to the role.

5. The Supporting Cast Is Strong and Grounded

The film features Jeremy Strong (Succession) as longtime manager Jon Landau and Stephen Graham (The Irishman) as Springsteen’s father. Their performances help paint a layered portrait of the emotional and creative forces shaping Springsteen’s life at the time.

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6. The Recording Process Is the Story

The film dramatizes the stripped-down recording sessions that took place in Springsteen’s New Jersey home. Using a simple four-track recorder becomes a metaphor for artistic vulnerability — capturing the essence of isolation and integrity that Nebraska represents.

7. Authentic Locations Add Emotional Weight

Filmed in New Jersey and New York, including Asbury Park, the production roots itself in Springsteen’s world. Local detail and real settings lend the movie a tangible authenticity that fans will immediately recognize.

8. Festival Buzz and Release Date

Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere premiered to strong buzz at Telluridebefore its theatrical release on October 24, 2025. It’s positioned as one of the year’s prestige fall dramas, appealing to both cinephiles and lifelong fans of The Boss.

9. The Soundtrack Reflects the Spirit of Nebraska

Composer Jeremiah Fraites (of The Lumineers) provides a sparse, moody score that mirrors Nebraska’s stark minimalism. The sound design favors atmosphere and emotion over spectacle, immersing viewers in the quiet pulse of Springsteen’s artistic world.

10. Early Reviews Praise Jeremy Allen White’s Transformation

Critics describe the film as “intimate, restrained, and haunting.” White’s portrayal has been hailed as “raw and vulnerable”, though some reviews suggest the film’s introspective tone may divide audiences expecting a more energetic, music-filled biopic.

Final Thoughts

Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere isn’t a typical rock biopic — it’s a study of creative crisis, loneliness, and the fragile pursuit of authenticity. With Jeremy Allen White’s deeply felt performance and Scott Cooper’s subdued vision, the film aims to capture not the myth of Springsteen, but the man who chose truth over glory.

Music Biopic Week: Seeing La Bamba with New Eyes - How Luis Valdez Turned the Story of Ritchie Valens into a Celebration of Art, Culture, and Legacy

La Bamba

Directed by: Luis Valdez

Written by: Luis Valdez

Starring: Lou Diamond Phillips, Esai Morales, Danielle Von Zerneck

Release Date: July 24, 1987

Revisiting La Bamba for Reelscope’s Music Biopic Week reveals how director Luis Valdez merged theater, Chicano history, and rock ’n’ roll to honor Ritchie Valens. A fresh look at a beloved 1987 classic.

The Film That Never Really Left

Somehow, despite having seen La Bamba more than a dozen times, watching it again for this theme week felt brand new. I was 11 when the film hit theaters in 1987, and it lived on through endless cable viewings. But somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, it faded from my memory — until I came back to it with older eyes and found it richer than ever.

Ritchie Valens and the Music That Never Died

The film tells the story of teenage rock star Ritchie Valens, who died in the 1959 plane crash that also killed Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper. Valens was only 17, yet in just a few months he changed music forever. Without Luis Valdez’s 1987 film, Valens might have remained a footnote. Instead, La Bamba turned his brief, bright life into a lasting legacy.

Luis Valdez: The Artist Behind the Art

Valdez’s own story could be a biopic. In the 1960s, he founded El Teatro Campesino (The Farmworkers Theater) with César Chávez, turning the struggles of migrant workers into living art. His theatrical background shapes La Bamba — its heightened emotion, its rhythmic dialogue, its celebration of community.

Valdez once said, “Learn by teaching and teach by learning.” That ethos flows through every frame of La Bamba — a film as much about the power of art as it is about music.

Brothers in Contrast: Lou Diamond Phillips and Esai Morales

One of Valdez’s great directorial gifts is his use of contrast. Lou Diamond Phillips plays Ritchie as quiet and reserved, while Esai Morales’s Bob is a storm of energy and hurt. Their dynamic — cinematic versus theatrical, reserved versus boiling over — creates the emotional heartbeat of the film.

Valdez uses this duality like a composer, balancing two conflicting notes until they resolve into harmony.

The Folk Roots of “La Bamba”

A 1987 Chicago Tribune article traced “La Bamba” to a Mexican folk dance dating back to the 1830s. Valens took that cultural inheritance and infused it with the electric spirit of rock ’n’ roll — a fusion so revolutionary that it still feels radical decades later.

When Los Lobos covered the song for the film, they did more than honor Valens — they reintroduced a Spanish-language anthem to mainstream radio. Nearly 30 years later, when “Despacito” hit number one, we were reminded that the cultural doors Valens kicked open are still opening today.

Dreams, Fears, and Theatrical Flourishes

Valdez’s use of dream sequences and symbolism can feel a bit stage-born, especially when visualizing Ritchie’s fear of flying. It’s a minor misstep in an otherwise deeply felt film — but one that adds texture to Valdez’s fusion of theater and cinema.

La Bamba isn’t perfect, but its imperfections are human, and that humanity is its greatest strength.

Relearning Through Art

Watching La Bamba as an adult, I understood what I couldn’t at 11 — how the film speaks to heritage, class, and the cost of dreams. Luis Valdez’s art comes from labor and community, from a childhood in the fields of California, not from Hollywood soundstages. His cinema is activism through beauty.

When I was young, I loved La Bamba for its songs and its style. Now, I love it for what it teaches me about art, identity, and how music can bridge entire worlds.

Legacy That Lasts

Like Ritchie Valens, Luis Valdez was a visionary who refused to be defined by limits. La Bamba is a tribute to his belief that stories from the margins can move the world. It’s a film that grows with you, that changes as you do — a biopic that is also a mirror.

Because of Luis Valdez, and the family who kept Ritchie’s spirit alive, the music will never stop playing.

31 Days of Horror: Doctor Sleep (2019) — The Impossible Sequel That Actually Works

Doctor Sleep

Directed by: Mike Flanagan

Written by: Mike Flanagan

Starring: Ewan McGregor, Rebecca Ferguson, Kyliegh Curran, Cliff Curtis

Release Date: November 8, 2019

Mike Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep (2019) pulls off the impossible — a sequel to both Stephen King’s The Shining and Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 masterpiece. Ewan McGregor stars in a haunting, soulful continuation that bridges trauma, addiction, and supernatural terror.

Haunted by the Past

Dan Torrance (Ewan McGregor) has spent his adult life running from his past — and from himself. After surviving his father’s murderous rampage at the Overlook Hotel, Dan spiraled into alcoholism, desperate to silence the psychic “shine” that once saved his life. Years later, sober and seeking redemption, he finds quiet purpose working at a New Hampshire hospice. There, he helps the dying find peace in their final moments — earning him the nickname Doctor Sleep.

This quiet redemption story is interrupted when Dan’s psychic connection reaches a young girl named Abra (Kyliegh Curran), whose “shine” burns brighter than his ever did.

A New Kind of Horror

Abra’s extraordinary gift attracts the attention of Rose the Hat (Rebecca Ferguson), the leader of a cult called The True Knot — a group of near-immortal predators who feed on the “steam” of psychic children to sustain their youth. Their evil is chillingly human, rendered with a visceral intensity that’s difficult to shake.

What follows is a battle of wills — between an aging survivor who once ran from his powers and a young prodigy learning to harness hers. It’s a story of mentorship, trauma, and courage wrapped inside a supernatural war.

Mike Flanagan’s Impossible Balancing Act

Doctor Sleep was always going to be a no-win proposition: a sequel to both King’s novel The Shining and Stanley Kubrick’s legendary 1980 film — two creative visions famously at odds with each other. But Mike Flanagan, the director behind Gerald’s Game and The Haunting of Hill House, somehow threads the needle.

Flanagan pays homage to Kubrick’s visual precision — the long, symmetrical corridors, the methodical dread — while honoring King’s deeper themes of recovery, compassion, and the moral weight of the supernatural. That he manages to please both camps (and even win King’s approval) is nothing short of miraculous.

The Performances That Shine

Kyliegh Curran is remarkable as Abra. She’s sharp, fearless, and fully alive — a believable prodigy who never tips into cliché. Her chemistry with McGregor brings heart and humanity to a story about monsters and ghosts.

Rebecca Ferguson, meanwhile, is magnetic as Rose the Hat — seductive, terrifying, and quietly tragic. Her performance anchors the film’s horror with personality and purpose.

And Ewan McGregor? He’s the steady pulse that holds it all together. Haunted yet hopeful, McGregor captures Dan’s lifelong struggle between compassion and fear, his quiet heroism shining through the darkness.

Return to the Overlook

When Doctor Sleep finally revisits the Overlook Hotel, it feels earned — a return to the haunted heart of King’s mythology. The recreation of Kubrick’s visual world is meticulous, from the wallpaper patterns to the steady glide of the camera through its hallways. It’s both nostalgic and devastating, the ghosts of cinema and memory walking side by side.

Flanagan doesn’t merely mimic Kubrick; he reclaims that world to give Dan Torrance — and King’s story — a proper emotional conclusion.

Final Thoughts

Doctor Sleep shouldn’t work. On paper, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Yet in Flanagan’s hands, it becomes a deeply moving, surprisingly soulful meditation on fear, addiction, and the power of empathy.

This isn’t just a sequel to The Shining — it’s a mirror held up to it. One haunted by the past but strong enough to move forward.

Rating: ★★★★½ (4.5/5)

A bold, brilliant continuation of a classic — and one of the finest modern Stephen King adaptations.

Music Biopic Week: Rocketman (2019) — The Dream That Became Elton John

Rocketman

Directed by Dexter Fletcher

Written by: Lee Hall

Starring: Taron Egerton, Jamie Bell, Bryce Dallas Howard, Richard Madden

Release Date: May 31, 2019

Rocketman is more than an Elton John biopic — it’s a dazzling, dreamlike musical about fame, addiction, and self-acceptance. Taron Egerton delivers a fearless, heartfelt performance in Dexter Fletcher’s visionary reimagining of a rock legend’s life.

A Biopic That Dares to Dream

Rocketman isn’t a typical music biopic. It’s not a linear walk through Elton John’s career milestones or a sanitized story of redemption. Instead, it’s a fever dream — a kaleidoscope of memory, regret, and melody.

From the first frame, Dexter Fletcher makes it clear this isn’t about cold facts. The film unfolds like Elton John recalling his life through the fog of stardom and substance abuse. The result is a surreal, confessional musical that blurs the line between performance and therapy.

Elton himself executive-produced the film, and it feels like we’re watching him narrate his own subconscious: moments of euphoria, loneliness, and creative combustion stitched together by the songs that defined him.

Taron Egerton Becomes Elton’s Reflection

Taron Egerton doesn’t mimic Elton John — he reimagines him. He doesn’t look or sound precisely like the real man, but that’s the point. This is Elton’s dream of Elton. A fantasy version who’s at once more handsome, more tortured, and somehow more fragile.

Egerton captures both Elton’s swagger and insecurity with extraordinary empathy. His performance brims with charisma and self-awareness, the kind that makes you believe he’s not just playing a role — he’s embodying a feeling. And crucially, he does his own singing, giving every musical number a raw, lived-in energy that no lip-sync could match.

After Rocketman, I was fully on board with the idea of Egerton as a bona fide movie star, history has yet to see him make that leap. In Rocketman however, he’s a superstar who sells emotion, humor, and heartbreak in equal measure.

The Complicated Friendship at the Heart of It All

Jamie Bell plays Bernie Taupin, Elton’s lifelong lyricist and creative soulmate. Their relationship forms the film’s emotional spine — two misfits who found in each other a way to express their pain and joy through art.

Many casual fans once assumed they were lovers; Rocketman clarifies that their bond was something deeper — a spiritual partnership that transcended romance. Bell’s quiet warmth and sensitivity ground the movie’s more extravagant sequences, and his musical chemistry with Egerton is as powerful as the real thing.

Villains, Lovers, and Parents Through Elton’s Eyes

Richard Madden plays John Reid, Elton’s lover and manipulative manager. Critics who call Madden’s performance too broad miss the point: Rocketmanis told through Elton’s distorted memory. Of course Reid comes across as a larger-than-life villain — that’s how Elton remembers him.

The same applies to Bryce Dallas Howard and Steven Mackintosh as Elton’s emotionally distant parents. They aren’t portraits of real people; they’re symbols — Freudian approximations of rejection and longing. In this dream logic, Fletcher turns biographical trauma into cinematic myth.

A Jukebox of Emotion

Rather than treat Elton’s songs as set dressing, Rocketman uses them as emotional architecture. “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” “I’m Still Standing,” and “Your Song” aren’t just performances; they’re expressions of who Elton is at each stage of his life.

Lee Hall’s screenplay and Fletcher’s direction let the music dictate the rhythm of Elton’s psyche. Every number feels like a confession disguised as a showstopper. This isn’t Bohemian Rhapsody’s cleaned-up timeline — this is the unfiltered interior life of a man who turned pain into poetry.

Final Thoughts

Rocketman is a biopic that sings from the soul. It’s bold, imaginative, heartbreaking, and triumphant — much like Elton John himself.

When I first saw it, I didn’t expect to be swept away. I’m a fan of Elton’s music, but not a superfan. And yet, by the time the credits rolled, I felt like I had lived inside his heart for two hours.

Rocketman is one of the finest musical biographies ever made.

31 Days of Horror: Movie Review:Bug (2007) – Madness, Paranoia, and the Descent of Ashley Judd

Reelscope’s 31 Days of Horror

Bug

Directed by: William Friedkin

Written by: Tracy Letts

Starring: Ashley Judd, Michael Shannon, Harry Connick Jr.

Release Date: May 25, 2007

In Bug (2007), director William Friedkin and writer Tracy Letts craft a suffocating horror of paranoia and madness. Ashley Judd delivers one of the boldest, most fearless performances of her career.

The Lost Stardom of Ashley Judd

At one time, in the late 1990s, Ashley Judd seemed poised to become one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. After the twin successes of Kiss the Girls and Double Jeopardy, she became the go-to leading lady for smart, tough thrillers. Unfortunately, that success also led to typecasting — Judd became trapped in a loop of increasingly absurd mystery thrillers, culminating in the nearly unwatchable Twisted (2003).

But the real derailment of Judd’s career, as she’s since revealed, wasn’t just typecasting. It was Harvey Weinstein’s blacklist of actresses who refused to bow to his predatory control of the industry.

After taking nearly two years away from film, Judd returned with a shocking, fearless role in Bug, a claustrophobic psychological horror film from The Exorcist director William Friedkin.

A Descent into Madness

In Bug, Judd plays Agnes White, a lonely, traumatized waitress living in a crumbling Oklahoma motel. She works nights at what’s described as a honky-tonk lesbian bar — though Agnes herself isn’t gay — and she’s haunted by the ghosts of her abusive marriage to Jerry (Harry Connick Jr.) and the loss of their kidnapped child.

When Jerry is released from prison, Agnes begins receiving eerie hang-up calls at her motel room, intensifying her paranoia. Into this fragile, paranoid existence steps Peter Evans (Michael Shannon), a quiet, awkward Gulf War veteran who claims to have nowhere else to go. Introduced by Agnes’s friend R.C. (Lynn Collins), Peter becomes both a comfort and a contagion — the first man to show her kindness in years and the one who will unravel her mind completely.

The Horror of Connection

What begins as an odd but tender relationship between two broken people quickly spirals into delirium. A simple bug bite triggers Peter’s belief that insects are crawling beneath his skin — government experiments, hidden transmitters, microscopic invaders. Agnes, desperate for meaning and human connection, descends into the same nightmare.

As their shared psychosis deepens, Friedkin’s camera traps us inside their motel room — a sweaty, suffocating box where love curdles into obsession and the line between flesh and delusion disappears. The film’s climax is a fever dream of tinfoil, fire, and blood.

Judd’s performance is astonishing. It’s raw, trembling, and entirely exposed — the kind of fearless acting that should have reignited her career. Michael Shannon, meanwhile, gives Peter a haunting stillness, his paranoia radiating like heat through the screen.

Friedkin’s Final Great Descent

Friedkin, already a master of psychological horror through The Exorcist, finds something even more disturbing in Bug: the horror of human loneliness. There are no demons here, no supernatural evil — just two people so desperate to believe in something that they invent a monster to make their suffering make sense.

Bug isn’t for everyone. It’s talky, intense, and almost unbearably intimate. But it’s also one of the most daring psychological horror films of the 2000s — a chamber piece of madness that crawls under your skin and never leaves.

Final Thoughts

Bug (2007) was both a return to form for Friedkin after years in the weeds and a revelation for Ashley Judd who was already a big star but showed she was far more talented than merely a movie star. Bug is an unnerving, gut-churning descent into shared delusion — a film that’s hard to watch and impossible to forget.

In a just world, this would have been the film that reignited Judd’s stardom. Instead, it remains a chilling reminder of how fearless she could be when given a role worthy of her talent.

Music Biopic Week: Ray (2004) — Jamie Foxx’s Electrifying Transformation into a Legend

Ray

Directed by: Taylor Hackford

Written by: James L. White

Starring: Jamie Foxx, Kerry Washington, Regina King, Clifton Powell, Harry Lennix, Terrence Howard, Larenz Tate

Release Date: October 29, 2004

For Music Biopic Week at Reelscope, we revisit Ray (2004), the soulful portrait of Ray Charles that earned Jamie Foxx an Oscar. Despite Taylor Hackford’s uneven direction, Foxx delivers one of the century’s greatest performances in a film alive with music, pain, and genius.

The Bridge Between Musical Eras

There’s a strange kind of symmetry to this week’s Reelscope lineup. We’ve moved from Rocketman’s flamboyant musical energy into the soulful rhythm of Ray, the biopic that kicked off a wave of music-driven dramas in the 2000s. As we head toward Friday’s look at Springsteen Deliver Us From Nowhere, it’s worth noting how these seemingly disconnected musical worlds — Ray Charles, Bruce Springsteen, Elton John— once coexisted in the same sprawling pop-cultural landscape.

While Ray, the movie story, ends before Bruce Springsteen ever takes the stage, the legacy of Ray Charles casts a long shadow. By the time Springsteen began to take hold culturally, Ray had already conquered blindness, racism, and was fighting his way back from addiction to become one of the world’s defining voices.

A Life Told in Flashback and Rhythm

Ray unfolds in a loosely linear rhythm, intercut with hazy, sepia-toned flashbacks to Ray’s painful childhood in Depression-era Florida. The adult Ray (Jamie Foxx) hustles his way onto a Seattle-bound bus, chasing gigs and independence with little more than a suitcase and boundless charm.

The structure occasionally falters, juggling timelines that threaten to derail the film’s momentum. But every time the story loses its groove, Foxx pulls it back in key. His performance, paired with Ray Charles’ immortal catalog, keeps the movie alive even when the editing stumbles.

Inside the Studio: Capturing the Genius

The film’s most electrifying scenes take place in the recording studio, where history is being made in real time. Curtis Armstrong’s Ahmet Ertegun and Richard Schiff’s Jerry Wexler watch, awestruck, as Ray nails classics in a single take. These sequences have a pulse of creation so vivid you can almost feel the tape spinning.

Even if you don’t love Ray’s blend of gospel, jazz, and pop, you recognize you’re witnessing something foundational — the sound of modern music taking shape.

Jamie Foxx: More Than an Impression

It’s easy to underestimate what Foxx does here. Yes, he nails Ray’s speech, gestures, and stage presence — but that’s not mimicry; that’s embodiment. Beneath the mannerisms, Foxx finds the contradictions: the impish grin, the calculating addict, the cruel husband, the paranoid businessman. He gives us the Ray Charles who could be both a genius and a tyrant, sometimes in the same breath.

His chemistry with Kerry Washington’s Della Bea Robinson gives the film a heartbreaking emotional center. Even when Hackford’s flashbacks dip into dime-store psychology, Foxx refuses to let Ray become a cliché. He finds something wounded yet indestructible in the man — a rare vulnerability wrapped in rhythm.

Where the Film Stumbles

Taylor Hackford’s direction too often meanders. The pacing drags; the flashbacks intrude. His fascination with Ray’s wealth — houses, cars, furniture — adds little insight. More frustrating is how the women in Ray’s life are flattened into archetypes. Kerry Washington and Regina King deliver soulful performances, but the script gives them little space to grow beyond “long-suffering wife” and “neglected mistress.”

Foxx seems to understand the emotional truth these women bring, even when the camera doesn’t. It’s a testament to his empathy that Ray remains so deeply human despite its uneven storytelling.

A Masterpiece of Performance

In the end, Ray works not because of Taylor Hackford’s direction but in spite of it. Jamie Foxx’s performance is so alive, so charged with energy and intuition, that it transcends the limits of the film around him. He doesn’t just play Ray Charles — he channels him.

It took an extraordinary performance to capture an extraordinary man, and Foxx delivers that and more. Whatever flaws Ray has as a biopic, it stands as a triumph of acting, music, and soul.

Final Verdict

3.5 out of 5 — A flawed but essential music biopic, powered by one of the best performances of the century.