Bruce Springsteen’s new film, Deliver Me from Nowhere, is not a rock ‘n’ roll celebration – it’s a confession.
Gone are the stadium lights and screaming fans. What’s left is the truth: the most powerful man in American music still lives in the long shadow of his father.
The movie, which explores the making of Springsteen’s 1982 album Nebraska, dives deep into the relationship between the singer and his father, Douglas Springsteen – a complex, cold, and sometimes cruel man whose presence shaped his son’s life and music. As one reviewer noted, “The storyline revolving around the broken relationship between Bruce Springsteen and his father is the only one that has real nuance.”
It’s raw. It’s uncomfortable. And it’s the kind of honesty that sticks with you.
The father’s shadow
Stephen Graham plays Springsteen’s father with haunting precision – a man defined by disappointment and drink. Jeremy Allen White captures Springsteen not as a rock god, but as a son desperate to understand the man who made him.
One critic from Digital Trends said it best: “The film isn’t about fame – it’s about a man reckoning with the ghosts that shaped him.”
And as I sat there watching, I realised this isn’t just Bruce’s story. It’s a story about all men of a certain age – particularly those of us over 60 – who grew up in a world that told us to work hard, stay quiet, and never let our guard down.
For many of us, that conditioning came from our fathers too. Men who loved us in the only way they knew how – through silence, distance, or control.
The quiet crisis among older men
Springsteen’s darkness feels familiar because it mirrors a growing, unspoken crisis among older men in Australia.
According to Beyond Blue, men account for nearly three-quarters of all suicides in this country – around 2,455 men each year, or almost 19 suicides per 100,000 males. The most at-risk group? Men aged 85 and older, followed closely by those in their 60s and 70s.
The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare reports that older men are also among the least likely to seek professional help for mental health issues. In fact, while one in five Australians experience a mental health condition in any given year, only 12.9 per cent of men seek help – compared with more than 21 per cent of women.
It’s not because men don’t feel pain. It’s because many of us were taught not to show it.
We were raised on stoicism. Told that tears were weakness. Taught that our value came from what we did, not who we were.
But when the job ends, the kids move out, and the world starts moving faster than we can keep up – that script doesn’t hold up.
The role of men Is changing — and that’s okay
There’s no denying that women have transformed the landscape – and thank goodness for that. They’ve fought for power, equality and voice. Society is stronger because of it.
But for some older men, the shift has been disorienting. They look around and see capable, confident women leading in workplaces, families, and politics – and quietly ask themselves: Where do I fit now?
That’s the question Springsteen’s film never directly asks, but constantly hints at. His father’s dominance, his own depression, his search for meaning – all orbit around the fear of not being enough.
And that’s a fear many older men still carry.
Five lessons from The Boss – for men Over 60
It’s okay to admit the darkness. Vulnerability isn’t weakness. When Springsteen talks about his depression, it’s not self-pity – it’s strength. It’s time older men stopped pretending and started sharing.
Purpose doesn’t retire. Work ends, but purpose doesn’t have to. Whether it’s mentoring, volunteering, or helping grandkids learn resilience, meaning can evolve.
Connection is medicine. Loneliness kills more men than heart disease. Call your mates. Check on your neighbour. Don’t wait for crisis.
Let go of the old rulebook. The world doesn’t need another tough guy. It needs steady, wise men who can listen, guide, and adapt.
Learn to stand in the dark – and still reach for light. Springsteen’s greatest message is that we don’t have to outrun the darkness. We just have to face it and keep moving.
Why It Matters
For men over 60, Deliver Me from Nowhere isn’t just a movie. It’s a mirror. A reminder that the battles we fight – against ego, ageing, and emptiness – are shared.
It’s a call to stop living in silence, to talk to our sons and grandsons about struggle, and to teach them what strength really looks like: honesty, openness, connection.
Springsteen once sang, “Everybody’s got a hungry heart.” Maybe what men our age hunger for most isn’t youth or power – it’s peace.