Springsteen

“Chainsaw Man — The Movie: Reze Arc,” the Japanese anime from Crunchyroll and Sony, claimed the top spot at the domestic box office this weekend, taking in an estimated $17.25 million, according to Comscore.

The R-rated movie, based on Tatsuki Fujimoto’s popular manga series, follows teen demon hunter Denji, who is betrayed by the yakuza and killed as he attempts to pay off the debts he inherited from his parents. His beloved chainsaw-powered dog Pochita makes a deal and sacrifices his life, fusing with Denji who is reborn with the ability to transform parts of his body into chainsaws.

“Chainsaw Man,” already a global hit, delivered a blow to Disney and 20th Century’s biopic “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere,” starring Jeremy Allen White, which came in a disappointing fourth place with an estimated $9.1 million.

Based on the 2023 Warren Zanes book of the same name, the film plumbs Springsteen’s life and career through the creative process, during the making of his 1982 acoustic album “Nebraska.”

The Times described the movie as a “thoughtful exploration of the creative process” that runs out of steam by the end, “meandering aimlessly into a depressive period of Springsteen’s, and it never quite regains its footing.”

In its second week out, the horror sequel “Black Phone 2” took the No. 2 slot, earning an estimated $13 million over the weekend, giving the Universal and Blumhouse movie a domestic total of $49.1 million.

Rounding out the third spot is Paramount’s romantic drama “Regretting You,” the latest film adaptation of novelist Colleen Hoover (“It Ends With Us”). Starring Allison Williams and Dave Franco, it opened to an estimated $12.5 million domestically.

What is it about the musical biopic that has inspired so much Oscar love? Is it the genre’s front-row seat on the turbulent, provocative, culture-shifting lives of artists we’ve worshiped from afar? Is it the transformational, go-for-broke acting showcase it affords, and the painstaking period recreation so essential to the journey back in time? Or is it simply the enduring power of popular music and the icons who’ve created and performed it?

With the release of writer-director Scott Cooper’s biographical drama “Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere,” starring kudos magnet Jeremy Allen White in an immersive portrayal of The Boss circa 1982, it feels like the perfect time to flash back on some of the most honored pop-music biopics in Oscars history.

‘A Complete Unknown’ (8 nominations)

Monica Barbaro and Timothée Chalamet in “A Complete Unknown.”

(Searchlight Pictures)

This nostalgic snapshot of the early career of legendary folk singer Bob Dylan racked up eight Oscar nominations, including for picture, director (James Mangold), adapted screenplay (Mangold and Jay Cocks), and actors Timothée Chalamet (Dylan), Edward Norton (Pete Seeger) and Monica Barbaro (Joan Baez). Though it exited the awards ceremony empty-handed (it also earned nods for sound and costume design), the film enjoyed solid awards-season grosses, largely positive reviews and further burnished Chalamet’s cred as a versatile and chameleonic leading man.

‘Elvis’ (8 nominations)

Austin Butler in “Elvis.”

(Warner Bros. Pictures)

Tracking the meteoric rise and fall of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll, this electric, eclectic, midcentury biopic impressed critics, shook up the box office and made a star out of Presley proxy Austin Butler. (Go ahead, say it: “Thank you, thank you very much!”) Though “Elvis” left the building on Oscar night with zero wins from eight nods — including picture, lead actor, cinematography and film editing — the movie brought the hip-swiveling singer back into the zeitgeist and gave director Baz Luhrmann yet another feather in his movie-musical cap.

‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’ (8 nominations)

James Cagney stars as George M. Cohan in the 1942 biographical musical drama “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

(Turner Entertainment)

An oldie but a goodie, this popular — and patriotic — musical drama, starring James Cagney as prolific composer-singer-showman George M. Cohan, was nominated for eight Academy Awards, including for picture, director (Michael Curtiz), lead actor and supporting actor (Walter Huston). Cagney won his only Oscar for the exuberant role. (He also received nominations for 1938’s “Angels With Dirty Faces” and 1955’s “Love Me or Leave Me,” another musical biopic.) “Yankee” took home additional statuettes for sound and, as the category was then called, best scoring of a musical picture.

‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ (7 nominations)

Levon Helm and Sissy Spacek in “Coal Miner’s Daughter.”

(Universal Pictures)

Country star Loretta Lynn may have been born a coal miner’s daughter, but Sissy Spacek was born to play her, as evidenced by the Oscar she won for her striking portrayal. The film, which spanned Lynn’s humble Kentucky youth and marriage at 15 through her extraordinary rise to chart-topping fame — and the nervous breakdown that nearly derailed her career — scored seven nominations, including for picture and adapted screenplay (by Thomas Rickman). Spacek, the film’s sole Oscar winner, would go on to earn four more lead actress nominations.

‘Bound for Glory’ (6 nominations)

David Carradine, who played folk singer Woody Guthrie in “Bound for Glory,” strums a guitar at the 1977 Cannes Film Festival.

(Keystone / Hulton Archive via Getty Images)

Seminal American folk singer Woody Guthrie, who was a pivotal supporting character in last year’s “A Complete Unknown,” had a biopic all to himself in this lyrical drama directed by the great Hal Ashby. Based on Guthrie’s 1943 autobiography and starring David Carradine as the itinerant, socially conscious musician, the movie was nominated for six Oscars, including picture, adapted screenplay and film editing. It won for Haskell Wexler’s evocative cinematography and Leonard Rosenman’s sweeping score — but remained more of a critical than commercial success.

‘Ray’ (6 nominations)

Jamie Foxx in “Ray.”

(Nicola Goode)

Jamie Foxx took home the Oscar, among many other prizes, for his vibrant embodiment of pioneering singer-songwriter-pianist Ray Charles. The ambitious box-office hit, which followed the influential crossover artist from his childhood in 1930s Georgia (when he went blind) through the late 1970s — and all the successes, detours and struggles in between — garnered six nominations, including best picture and director (Taylor Hackford). Along with the lead actor award, “Ray” won for sound mixing. Foxx also earned a supporting actor nod that same year for his fine dramatic work in Michael Mann’s “Collateral.”

‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ (5 nominations)

Rami Malek in “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

(Alex Bailey / Twentieth Century Fox)

Audiences and Academy voters were kinder than many critics to this often dazzling, mega-grossing ($910 million worldwide) portrait of groundbreaking Queen frontman and co-founder Freddie Mercury, who died of complications from AIDS in 1991. Although called out for sanitizing the queer, vocally gifted musician’s private — and not-so-private — life, the movie was nominated for five Oscars, including best picture. With wins for film editing, sound editing, sound mixing and, most notably, lead actor (for Rami Malek’s captivating turn as Mercury), the picture amassed the most statuettes in that year’s race.

‘Lady Sings the Blues’ (5 nominations)

Diana Ross in “Lady Sings the Blues.”

(Paramount Pictures)

Diana Ross made an auspicious feature acting debut in this sprawling biopic about the hardships and triumphs of celebrated jazz singer Billie Holiday. An iconic music star herself — she’d recently left the hit-making Supremes to go solo — Ross earned her first (and only) Oscar nod for her galvanizing recreation. The film received four additional nominations, including for original screenplay and costume design, but won none. Ross, who lost that year to Liza Minnelli in “Cabaret,” would go on to star in just a handful of other films. (“Mahogany,” anyone?)

‘Walk the Line’ (5 nominations)

Joaquin Phoenix in “Walk the Line.”

(Suzanne Tenner / 20th Century Fox)

The life of country-folk-rockabilly star Johnny Cash received a polished, emotionally rich big-screen treatment thanks to fine direction by James Mangold (who co-wrote with Gill Dennis) and powerful star turns by Joaquin Phoenix as the complicated Man in Black and Reese Witherspoon as his resilient wife, singer June Carter Cash. The popular, well-reviewed drama collected five Oscar nominations: lead actor and actress, costume design, film editing and sound mixing. Witherspoon captured Oscar gold — along with a raft of other awards — for her memorable performance.

TELLURIDE, Colo.  — Jeremy Allen White asked all the questions any normal human being would ask when offered the chance to play Bruce Springsteen in “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.” In theaters Oct. 24, it’s a movie that examines a slice of the rock legend’s career when he was battling depression and creating 1982’s incomparable exploration of alienation “Nebraska,” a record he didn’t know he was making when he recorded the songs on a primitive four-track tape machine in a rented New Jersey home. It turned out to be his favorite of all his albums.

Most of those questions could be boiled down to: Why me? White didn’t know how to play the guitar. He loves to sing but would never call himself a singer. And while he has a relationship with an audience, particularly those who have white-knuckled their way through his Emmy-winning work as Carmy, the talented and troubled chef on “The Bear,” he says it’s a far cry from the bond Springsteen has forged with his fan base for the past 50-plus years.

“The relationship a musician has with fans is so intimate,” White, 34, tells me the morning after the movie had its world premiere at the Telluride Film Festival. “You listen to him in the car, you go to see him live. He’s there in your ear and it’s just the two of you. You feel like you’re being spoken to. Bruce is so important to so many people. It was daunting. I didn’t want to disappoint.”

By the time we talked, though, White was well past any anxiety about disappointing, if only because he had the approval of the person who mattered the most: Springsteen himself.

“Jeremy tolerated me and I appreciated that,” Springsteen said at a festival Q&A, suggesting that his input on the movie was ongoing and significant — and also welcome. He noted that it was easy to sign off on director Scott Cooper’s vision for the movie, which, with its narrow focus on the deep dive of “Nebraska,” he called an “antibiopic.”

“And I’m old and I don’t give a f— what I do,” Springsteen added, laughing.

White and I are sitting in the sun outside his hotel, basking in the warmth the day after a steady rain. Wearing a battered Yankees cap, jeans, boots and a blue pullover, he’s sporting the casual uniform of the festival, if not the Boss himself. White asks if I mind if he lights an American Spirit. He reaches for his lighter. The premiere is over and his mood is light. We dive right in.

Jeremy Allen White in the movie “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.”

(Macall Polay / 20th Century Studios)

Was there an immediate point of connection with Springsteen?
The more I talked with him, the more I learned. And at the point in his life we show in the movie, he was feeling so fraudulent. Not in his work, but as a human. He felt like he was being caught in a lie all the time. And I don’t want to speak for all actors, but I’ve certainly dealt with that kind of feeling.

It feels like there’s a line between your Springsteen and Carmy on “The Bear,” two men carrying generational trauma and emotional baggage they have no idea how to deal with. Do you see that?
For sure, you can draw that line. They’re cousins. And they’ve both got their art, something they feel confident about. What Bruce was feeling in his relationship with his father and the environment he grew up in, is he felt incredibly unsafe. And that made it difficult for him to trust people and form real connections. For a long time, the only connection he felt was in that three hours he spent on stage.

But then what do you do the rest of the time?
Absolutely. And I’m familiar with those feelings. But my home life as a child was more loving and supportive, so I had to do some creative work to find that tether to Bruce.

You mentioning Springsteen’s dad just popped a thought into my head. Is Carmy’s dad alive?
[Long exhale] We don’t know. That’s a decision that’s up to [showrunner] Chris [Storer].

It’s above your pay grade.
Well above.

You’re really good at playing men who have trouble articulating their feelings, which puts a lot of weight on your shoulders to convey an interior life through close-ups. Do you like that kind of acting?
I do. You have to have an understanding. The camera knows. If you’re just staring at a wall and you don’t have anything going on, the camera will know. The audience will, too.

You do also get to rock out and sing “Born to Run” and “Born in the U.S.A.” How did your vocal chords feel afterward?
I spent an afternoon singing “Born in the U.S.A.” and I got a migraine and I lost my voice. I saw Bruce afterward and he asked, “What’d you do today.” And I said [affecting a hoarse voice], “Uh, I recorded ‘Born in the U.S.A.’” And he smiles and says, “Sounds about right.”

Most of your singing is the “Nebraska” songs, these delicate acoustic songs about despairing characters who have lost hope. Putting across their stories in these songs feels like its own imposing challenge.
I was so focused on just sounding like Bruce and my coach, Eric [Vetro], asks, “What are you singing about? What’s the story? Where’s Bruce coming from? Is he singing from his perspective? Is about his childhood? Is he playing a character?” All these questions that, for an actor, should be right at the front of mind. Because I was so anxious about sounding like him, I found myself blocked by the real thing, which was: How can I just sing the song as honestly as possible?

What song was the breakthrough?
“Mansion on the Hill.” Bruce listened to it and said, “You do sound like me. But it’s you singing the song.” And that gave me permission, not just in recording the music, but making a film where I could tell his story but not be afraid to bring myself to it.

Did you have a favorite song?
Probably “My Father’s House.” It seemed like a warning for me. There’s regret in it. What I heard is a song about a young man not wanting to regret that he didn’t reach out for his father, who he had a love and connection with earlier. There was an immediacy to it, which you then see with Bruce and his father in the film.

Did it make you want to call your dad?
I called him right after recording that song in Nashville. Like many fathers and sons, we have a loving relationship, but we’ve also gone through periods where things have been difficult and it was hard to communicate. Making this film and singing this song has given me another perspective. It also coincides with getting older and having children of my own.

I’m glad you made the call. You can’t have those conversations after a certain point.
That’s what I mean about the warning of that song.

You told me yesterday that you and Springsteen had a debate about “Reason to Believe.” What was the source of the disagreement?
It’s the last song on the album and Bruce says people confuse it as being hopeful. He says that’s not correct. The song is about a woman whose husband has left her and she stands at the end of the driveway every day, waiting for him to come home. And I hear that, and I think, “Oh, that’s real love. That’s romance. Someone’s gonna drive down that road at some point.”

Either that or this poor woman is just going to be walking up and down her driveway the rest of her life.
And no one’s gonna be there. It depends how your ear is on a song.

But you choose to believe.
I choose to walk to the end of the driveway. Absolutely.

Would you call yourself an optimist?
No. [Laughs] Not really.

“Nebraska” came out in 1982 and was informed by the idea that there was a growing divide between the wealthy and the poor and that what we think of as the American Dream was becoming more elusive. Where do you think the album sits more than four decades later?
People are angry. That’s what seems to define our country right now. Anger. And it doesn’t seem to be going away. The songs on “Nebraska” are still going to be speaking to us four decades from now. They’re timeless.

Jeremy Allen White in the movie “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.”

(Macall Polay / 20th Century Studios)

Did your early dance background help you with the physicality of the role, the way he carries himself on stage or even just walking around?
For sure. Finding the way he holds his gravity was important. I put little lifts in the boots and that made my posture change, my legs a little longer. Wearing the pants up to here [he points to a spot above his hips], that gets your gravity in your belly button, where I’m crouched over all the time.

There’s a lot of scenes in diners where he’s sitting with one arm over the back of the booth …
… like he’s on his way out almost all the time. One foot in, one foot out.

Musician friends turned you on to “Nebraska” in your early 20s. What music were you listening to then?
My folks are a little older so I grew up listening to a lot of music that Bruce listened to — Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, the Beatles, the Stones, Aretha Franklin.

Your parents had a strong record collection.
Still do. And I grew up in in Brooklyn in the ’90s, so I got really heavy into hip-hop in my teenage years. I discovered Nas and Jay-Z and Big L and Wu-Tang. Tribe. De La Soul. And then I was around for an exciting time in the New York scene. I was young so I couldn’t really experience it, but the Strokes were coming out and LCD Soundsystem. I felt lucky to be close that stuff as it was happening.

The way you’re talking about all this, it feels like music is a fundamental part of your life.
Absolutely. I love that it’s always with you. I’ve taken a couple of cross-country trips, and I love putting on Motown. I go through periods where I listen to the same 20 songs for a couple of weeks. But then I’ve got thousands of “liked” songs. And the nice part about a long drive is you can shuffle that and it’s like you’re traveling in time. I love getting to visit past versions of myself through music.

Springsteen takes an eventful cross-country trip in the film. What’s your most memorable one?
I did one by myself when I was about 24. I thought I was going to give myself about two weeks to go from New York to L.A. The first week was great. I was enjoying my solitude, listening to a lot of music. Then when I hit Utah, I got incredibly lonely.

Did the landscapes get to you?
Maybe. I had a certain amount of anonymity, which I enjoy on a road trip. You don’t know anybody in these towns and that allows you to be whoever you want to be, passing through. I remember getting to Utah and just being desperate to see somebody who knew who I was. And I got a flat in St. George, Utah. It was a disaster. My phone had died. I didn’t have a spare. I was out on the side of the road trying to borrow somebody’s phone. I took that as a sign. After I got it repaired, I raced to have dinner with a friend, because I felt this this crazy loneliness.

Springsteen says everyone has their “genesis moment,” an experience that charts your path. His was watching Elvis Presley perform on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in 1956. What’s your genesis moment?
I had been dancing on stage but I didn’t act until I was 14 when I got up in front of a group in middle school. I had this great teacher, John McEneny, and he was having us do this improvisational exercise — two characters, one speaking, one quiet. And my friend, Yael, was playing a mother and I was playing her child who didn’t know how to speak yet. So I wasn’t speaking, like so much of my work [Laughs].

It’s Carmy’s genesis moment too.
Yes. And I remember feeling a presence. I had a hard time focusing as a child, a hard time being present. Still do. But I remember even in silence feeling so at ease and present. And of course I remember the eyes. And even without me doing anything or speaking, I felt attention, people waiting to see what I would do next. And I went, “Whoa.” I felt at peace. I felt present and people were interested. And I thought, “Let me follow this a little bit and see where we can go.”

There’s a scene in the movie, taken from real life, where Springsteen is flipping through the channels one night and stumbles upon Terrence Malick’s “Badlands,” a movie that ultimately influences “Nebraska.” With streaming, we don’t really have those serendipitous discoveries any more. Have you ever had a moment like that?
I can’t think of one. But “Badlands” was a favorite of my parents and they showed it to me when I was 13 or 14. Martin Sheen was cool as hell in that role, and I was so impressed with his commitment to that character. And Sissy Spacek conveys so much with so few words.

And like “Nebraska,” “Badlands” was difficult to make. There was a lot of pushback against Malick and what he was trying to do.
There was a lot of confusion going on. They weren’t on the same page. Like with Bruce, it took a lot of diligence on Terrence Malick’s part to realize his vision. It’s so beautiful when you hear about the process of making a film is so difficult, and then something so beautiful and perfect comes out.

Where do you like to see movies in L.A.?
I love the New Beverly. I saw “2001: A Space Odyssey” at the Egyptian not long ago. The Aero, if I’m on the Westside. I miss the Cinerama Dome and the Arclight. New movies, probably the Sunset 5. My favorite thing is go to a movie on a Tuesday at like one in the afternoon. You’re there by yourself. I like seeing movies by myself. Some people get out of a movie and like to start talking about it. I like getting out of a movie and being quiet for awhile.

Did you see “Weapons”? That was my favorite movie theater experience this summer.
I loved “Weapons.” And obviously, it’s a great horror film and funny at times and that ending is just crazy. But also I found myself very emotionally affected. To me the horror of the movie was about, from the child’s perspective, looking at all these adults who were totally incapable, whether it was due to addiction or narcissism.

Bringing this full circle, I’m watching this movie about kids feeling unsafe and I thought of the times in Bruce’s upbringing where he felt a similar way and how that made it so difficult to grow up and be trusting. That he ultimately got to that place is so beautiful. I hope people come away from watching this movie feeling that and, if they’re in a place that’s not so good, maybe thinking that connection can still be possible.

In recent years, film festivals haven’t felt all that festive. Audiences have dwindled, streaming has upended viewing habits and the pandemic and Hollywood strikes have rattled the industry, leaving even the most glamorous events to fight for their place on the cultural calendar.

Then there’s Telluride. For more than a half-century, the tiny mountain gathering has thrived as a kind of anti-festival: no red carpets, no prizes, no tuxedos, just movies. Perched 8,750 feet up in a box canyon in the Colorado Rockies, it’s reachable only by twisting roads or a white-knuckle drop into one of the nation’s highest airports. Festival passes are pricey and limited in number, which makes Telluride feel at once intimate and exclusive. With its mix of industry insiders and devoted film lovers, that isolation and tight-knit atmosphere have become part of Telluride’s mystique, and the promise of early Oscar buzz keeps filmmakers, stars and cinephiles making the pilgrimage. Since 2009, only five best picture winners have skipped Telluride on their way to the top prize.

“It’s so hard to get to Telluride — you don’t end up here by accident,” festival director Julie Huntsinger says by phone. “We’ve always felt it’s incumbent on us to show either brand-new things or extraordinary things that make your time worth it. You know how cats will bring you a mouse? I always feel like I’m bringing you a mouse or a bird, and I just hope you’ll like it.”

Rolling out over Labor Day weekend, the 52nd Telluride Film Festival will supply a slate of fresh offerings, including a handful of world premieres. Scott Cooper’s “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere” drops Jeremy Allen White into the boots of the Boss, tracing the creation of his stark 1982 album, “Nebraska.” Chloé Zhao’s “Hamnet” unites Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal in a haunting portrait of grief. Edward Berger’s “Ballad of a Small Player” finds Colin Farrell wandering Macau as a gambler chasing luck and redemption. And Daniel Roher’s “Tuner” gives Dustin Hoffman a rare return to the screen in a crime thriller about a piano tuner who discovers his ear is just as effective on safes as on Steinways.

Also in the mix are a number of films coming from Cannes and Venice: Yorgos Lanthimos’ “Bugonia,” Noah Baumbach’s “Jay Kelly,” Kelly Reichardt’s “The Mastermind” and Richard Linklater with a double bill, “Blue Moon” and “Nouvelle Vague,” proof that Telluride remains a haven for auteurs.

At last year’s Telluride, politics dominated the conversation on- and off-screen. Hot-button issues, from abortion access to climate change to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, ran through the program, while guests such as Hillary Clinton, James Carville and special prosecutor Jack Smith joined the usual roster of actors and filmmakers. Ali Abbasi’s “The Apprentice,” a searing portrait of Donald Trump’s early years, was one of the buzziest titles.

This year the lineup is broader, though politics still runs through it. Ivy Meeropol’s “Ask E. Jean” follows writer E. Jean Carroll through her legal battles with Trump, while Kleber Mendonça Filho’s “The Secret Agent” uses a 1970s-set thriller to revisit Brazil’s military dictatorship, with Wagner Moura (“Narcos”) as a professor on the run. “This year is pretty political too,” Huntsinger insists. “There are a couple of films that, if you’re paying attention, have important things to say. I just hope everybody feels a little braver after a lot of the things we show.”

German-born director Edward Berger, who brought his papal thriller “Conclave” to last year’s edition, returns with a strikingly different film in “Ballad of a Small Player.”

“I would defy anyone to stack up his films and say they’re by the same filmmaker,” Huntsinger says. “This is a beautiful, very dreamlike, nonlinear exercise in spirituality and introspection. ‘Conclave’ felt disciplined — not that this film is undisciplined but it exists on a totally different plane.”

Zhao, who won the directing Oscar for 2020’s “Nomadland,” has adapted “Hamnet” from Maggie O’Farrell’s acclaimed novel about the death of Shakespeare’s only son in what Huntsinger describes as one of the festival’s most emotionally powerful selections.

“Chloé is a person of immense depth,” Huntsinger says. “She has such a deep feel for human beings. This is a sad, mournful but beautiful meditation on loss. People should be prepared to cathartically cry. There isn’t a false note in it.”

Another festival favorite, Lanthimos makes his third trip to Telluride with “Bugonia,” a darkly comic sci-fi satire that reunites him with Emma Stone following their earlier collaborations on “The Favourite” and “Poor Things.” A remake of the 2003 Korean cult film “Save the Green Planet!,” it follows a conspiracy-minded beekeeper (Jesse Plemons) who kidnaps a powerful pharma executive (Stone) he believes is an alien bent on destroying Earth.

“Be prepared to get your a— kicked,” Huntsinger says. “Emma is outstanding, and we should never take her for granted, but Jesse Plemons steals the show. He next-levels it in this one.”

Baumbach also marks his return to Telluride with the dramedy “Jay Kelly,” which centers on an actor (George Clooney) and his longtime manager (Adam Sandler) as they journey across Europe, looking back on the choices and relationships that have shaped their lives. Huntsinger likens the film to a cinematic negroni: “It’s substantial but also fun, with an almost summery feel. It’s about where you’re headed after a certain stage in life, told without heavy-handedness.”

The filmmaker and screenwriter, who previously brought “Margot at the Wedding,” “Frances Ha” and “Marriage Story” to the festival, will be honored this year with a Silver Medallion. He shares the award with Iranian director Jafar Panahi, whose drama “It Was Just an Accident” won the Palme d’Or at Cannes, and Ethan Hawke, represented in the lineup with Linklater’s “Blue Moon” and his own documentary about country singer Merle Haggard, “Highway 99: A Double Album.”

Few films in the lineup will be more closely watched than Cooper’s Springsteen biopic, with Emmy-winning “The Bear” star White channeling the Boss during the making of one of his most uncompromising albums. “Jeremy delivers in the same way that Timothée Chalamet did in [the Bob Dylan biopic] ‘A Complete Unknown,’ where you just think, Jesus, what can’t this kid do?” Huntsinger says. “Scott’s a great filmmaker, and the movie delivers on its promise.”

The music thread continues with Morgan Neville’s documentary “Man on the Run,” drawn from never-before-seen home movies Paul McCartney shot in the early 1970s, not long after the Beatles’ split. The footage shows McCartney retreating to Scotland with his family and offers what Huntsinger describes as a revelatory glimpse at a less-mythologized moment. “You also understand there wasn’t a villain in the Beatles breakup,” Huntsinger says. “It’s an expansion on history that’s really needed.”

Elsewhere in the documentary lineup, Oscar-winning filmmaker Laura Poitras returns with “Cover-Up” (co-directed by Mark Obenhaus), an exploration of investigative journalist Seymour Hersh’s career that builds on her politically charged films like “Citizenfour” and “All the Beauty and the Bloodshed.”

For all its flannel-and-jeans ethos, Telluride isn’t immune to the economics of 2025. Lodging and travel costs have soared, amplifying concerns that the showcase has become a festival largely for the well-off. Huntsinger concedes the expense but points out pass prices haven’t budged in more than 15 years as she works to keep it accessible.

“I was concerned for a while because our audience was aging, but we’ve really worked on making sure that younger people and people on fixed incomes can come,” she says. “I can see the difference — it’s not just people of means. And I promise you, I’ll keep fighting for that. I hope the lodging people will realize they got a little out of hand and start lowering prices too.”

For all the turbulence and doomsaying that has rattled Hollywood in recent years, Telluride has managed to hold fast to its identity.

“The devotion people have to this weekend makes me think there’s hope,” Huntsinger says. “They’re not coming here for anything but film-loving. To hear people say, ‘I would not miss this for the world’ makes me really proud and hopeful. After everything we’ve all been through, I think we still have reason to keep doing this crazy little picnic.”