The gravel of the London streets serves as a pillow for Harris Dickinson’s directorial debut “Urchin.” We follow Mike (Frank Dillane), a homeless addict recently released from jail, as he struggles with substance abuse and the complexities of life post-incarceration. Dickinson’s humble yet sharp film questions the flawed and unforgiving systems our society is built upon.
After causing quite the stir as Nicole Kidman’s intern-turned-lover in 2024’s “Babygirl” and the recent confirmation that he will portray John Lennon in the upcoming Beatles biopics, Dickinson’s step behind the camera comes at an interesting time.
“I wrote something that was relatively ambitious for the size,” Dickinson said in a panel Q&A. “Not once [was I told], ‘Oh, don’t do that…we can’t make that work.’ It was always, ‘let’s try and figure out how,’ which I think is rare.”
Filming on location in London, Dickinson and the crew shot Dillane from afar as he asked real-life passers-by for money and food. Dickinson wanted the film to feel like a documentary in these scenes and focused on creating a voyeuristic atmosphere. As an audience, we look in on Mike and must reckon with our own privilege. While the housing crisis is easy to ignore when one has a home, the film dares audiences to ignore its thrumming presence in virtually every city across the globe.
As Mike teeters between hopeful recovery and imminent relapse, Dickinson interweaves a few surrealist sequences. In one scene, the camera descends down the shower drain at Mike’s hostel and takes us through neon-colored visions of the London sewage system. We land in a mossy cave, a visual representation of Mike’s unstable mind as he falls down the social ladder. An inspired score of techno influences and striking electric guitars accompany these sequences, especially near the film’s finale.
While these experimental elements are engaging, Dillane’s incredibly emotive and human performance more effectively communicates the film’s message. Dillane embraces his awkward charm, delivering a performance that’s sincere, compassionate and hot-tempered all at once. Over the course of the film, Mike becomes something of a best friend to the audience. We feel joyful when he is joyful, defeated when he feels defeated. We get to know Mike as a fleshed-out human who has experienced loss, struggle, joy and friendship.
But don’t be fooled: This isn’t just a wrenching character study about the failures of societal structures with strange experimental elements. It’s secretly one of the funniest movies of the year. Tense moments are expertly interrupted with comedy that feels true to life. Mike listens to a strange, ironically passionate self-help tape and purchases a hilariously hideous pair of moccasins to look “professional” for his new job at a lowly hotel restaurant. When he goes out to karaoke with two coworkers, the three join in for a rendition of Atomic Kitten’s “Whole Again” that brings tears of laughter and tenderness.
This mixture of comedy and emotion in “Urchin” evokes Eva Victor’s “Sorry, Baby,” which was released earlier this year. The two films are in many ways cut from the same cloth. Besides being each director’s debut film, they offer stunning modern social commentaries and stand out thanks to each lead actor’s relatability and personableness. There’s an ever-present, palpable intimacy between the characters and their lives that embodies life’s ability to be draining and comical at the same time.
“Urchin” thrives off its characters’ rawness and its slice-of-life quality. While he doesn’t offer solutions to the political and systemic issues he presents, Dickinson begins to peel back the many layers of neglect faced by public services through the stories of people who are left most vulnerable.
Contact Ellie Miller at [email protected].