PHOTO COURTESY 20TH CENTURY PICTURES

The biopic “Bohemian Rhapsody” is about Queen. “Rocketman” is about Elton John. “Elvis,” as you’d imagine, is about Elvis.

“Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” is about depression. As it happens, its protagonist is Bruce Springsteen.

That’s an aberration, obviously, in the increasingly prevalent world of music biopics. There are no fictionalized scenes depicting pivotal moments in music history, as was the case in last year’s Bob Dylan biopic, “A Complete Unknown.” There are few depictions of onstage theatrics a la “Bohemian Rhapsody,” though bits of “Born to Run” and a studio recording of “Born in the U.S.A.” are thrown in to break up the melancholy.

For the most part, though, “Deliver Me From Nowhere” is about wrestling with and struggling to understand what’s inside the mind. Because the mind in question is that of Springsteen, played here in a convincing turn by Jeremy Allen White, those feelings can only express themselves in song. In this case, that takes the form of plaintive bedroom recordings such as “Mansion on a Hill” and “Atlantic City,” songs that would make up Springsteen’s acclaimed-yet-somber 1982 album “Nebraska.”

Inasmuch as there is music-industry drama in “Deliver Me From Nowhere,” it concerns the push to preserve that album — a request met with deep skepticism from Columbia Records, who was eager to capitalize on the success and hits of the double album “The River.” Producers and executives stress that they don’t get what Springsteen is doing; still, they don’t meaningfully interfere. (Columbia would be more than satisfied when Springsteen turned other songs from those sessions into the massively successful “Born in the U.S.A.” album.)

The drive of the film, then, is Springsteen’s struggle to keep the darkness on the edge of his mind from derailing his life and career. He reflects on childhood trauma, the result of an alcoholic father; he begins dating a doting Jersey girl (Odessa Young) but pushes her away, fearing he can’t live up to her expectations.

“A Complete Unknown” had its narrative climax at the Newport Folk Festival; “Bohemian Rhapsody” ended at Live Aid. “Deliver Me From Nowhere” has a brief but meaningful panic attack at the El Paso County Fair as its pivotal moment. Springsteen’s not on stage; he’s disinterestedly watching a honky-tonk band.

Perhaps this is appropriate; just as “Nebraska” was an album that didn’t make commercial sense, “Deliver Me From Nowhere” does not fit the expected mold of flashy music flicks. I wouldn’t be surprised if viewers less familiar with Springsteen’s catalog are disappointed; the film does not serve as any kind of introduction to the artist’s importance and impact, as most similar films are.

Yet, for that, it’s more memorable. If you look at Rolling Stone’s rankings of the best albums ever made, “Nebraska” ranks much higher than “The River.” I’d imagine future retrospectives will have much more to say about “Deliver Me From Nowhere” than “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

My Rating: 8/10

“Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” is now playing in theaters.