‘Urchin’ Review: Frank Dillane Is a Self-Destructive Car Crash in Harris Dickinson’s Impressive Directing Debut

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It’s quite apparent that some significant influences can be spotted in Harris Dickinson’s raw character study, “Urchin.” These include the grim nihilism seen in Mike Leigh’s “Naked,” the stark realism characteristic of Ken Loach’s work, the immersive textures and free-flowing energy found in Josh and Benny Safdie’s “Heaven Knows What,” as well as the subjective reality, gritty poetry, and surreal moments typical of Gus Van Sant’s early films such as “Mala Noche,” “Drugstore Cowboy,” and “My Own Private Idaho.

This statement doesn’t imply that the English actor’s initial directorial effort is simply imitative or devoid of his unique style. Any novice filmmaker who can synthesize their influences into an intensely individual portrayal of marginalized life, which he evidently witnesses personally, showcases a remarkable talent.

The English actor’s first directorial attempt isn’t automatically derivative or lacking his personal touch. A newcomer who can blend their inspirations into a deeply personal representation of society’s fringes, a world he clearly knows intimately, demonstrates exceptional skill.

In a different wording: The main character in Dickinson’s work, named Mike, is struggling to escape from a self-destructive cycle that seems inherent to him. Despite this, neither the writer-director nor Frank Dillane, who portrays Mike with a mix of tension and explosiveness yet also humor and nonchalance, explicitly tries to garner our empathy. However, the film demonstrates undeniable compassion towards Mike’s situation.

Mike is a troubled individual who frequently lies, lacks empathy, and can be quite self-centered. He has the potential to become violent in times of extreme distress. Generally, people tend to avoid him or ignore him as they walk past him on the street. However, the novel “Urchin” manages to make us notice him and empathize with his hardships.

The director, who spent his childhood among individuals struggling with addiction, has been actively involved in East London charities addressing homelessness for many years. The character Mike was inspired by several people that Dickinson met – some he knew well and others through support groups. This background undeniably enhances Dillane’s portrayal’s authenticity.

At first glance, Mike appears to be having an ordinary morning as he wakes up disoriented on the sidewalk, with a street preacher’s loud voice echoing around him. He grumbles and slinks into an alleyway to find his backpack hidden behind a trash bin. Afterward, he sets himself up at a bustling intersection, begging for money, but people largely ignore him. Later, he manages to enter a restaurant to recharge his phone, but is eventually evicted when he starts dozing off at the table.

At the start of the day, Mike seems like any other person waking up groggily on the sidewalk, surrounded by the booming voice of a street preacher. He scowls and makes a beeline for an alley to fetch his backpack from behind a dumpster. Eventually, he sets himself up at a crowded intersection to beg for money, but people mostly pass him by. In a bid to recharge his phone, he enters a restaurant, but is asked to leave when he falls asleep at the table.

The initial scenes have a feel reminiscent of documentaries, offering us an unbiased glimpse into the routine life of a homeless drug addict, portrayed by Dillane’s character Mike. Instead of making him a mere victim of a cold society, the actor subtly conveys Mike’s intelligence and untapped potential that may have been lost over time as he sought solace in drugs. This is done without resorting to melodramatic portrayals or labeling him as just another casualty of an unforgiving system.

In a scuffle, Mike gets into a fight with Nathan (an unnamed, homeless drug addict), who had stolen Mike’s wallet and squandered his money. A good-hearted bystander intervenes to stop the fight and offers to treat Mike to lunch. However, instead of accepting the generosity, Mike retaliates by attacking the stranger, knocking him unconscious and stealing his watch and wallet. The police quickly apprehend Mike, but when he attempts to plead self-defense, an officer remarks dryly that the entire incident was recorded on surveillance cameras. Dillane’s reaction of “Oh” is particularly amusing.

The section bursts with vibrant energy, fueled by Alan Myson’s pulsating techno soundtrack and the jolt from the attack. Unlike typical addiction stories, when Mike is handed a 14-month jail term, this narrative chooses an unconventional route, skipping the usual exploration of prison trauma and drug detox pain.

However, a specific aspect of Mike’s incarceration is significant to Dickinson primarily because it leads him back into the system upon his early release after seven months. The film only shows a small glimpse of his prison time, one of its humorous moments occurring during an intake scene where Mike humorously complains about a guard’s cold touch and requests that he warm up his glove during a strip search.

Incarceration also introduces a few magical realism elements – some smoothly incorporated and others less so – such as when the camera tracks the suds from Mike’s shower, descending the drain, into the fiery depths of the earth, then beyond to a vast, colorful void filled with moving amoeba-like forms. The most striking instance of these surreal departures is the persistent theme of Mike experiencing visions of a woman who might symbolize his biological mother.

In the Loachian scenes, I, as Mike, find myself dealing with a parole officer and later a counselor. Growing up, I was tossed around in cold-hearted foster homes, so interacting with my adoptive parents is kept to a minimum. Frankly, I’m not too optimistic about the assistance authorities can offer regarding my rehabilitation.

I genuinely want to stay clean, but there’s a question mark hanging over whether my grand plans for starting a limo service are just empty promises or something I truly believe I could pull off. The answer to that mystery remains unclear.

Dillane frequently gives off an impression that Mike is adhering to the prescribed part in these interactions, even trying to convince himself that he can avoid trouble. However, he seems genuinely sorry during a powerful scene where the counselor talks to him and his victim together.

Mike takes up temporary residence at a hostel and secures a job as an apprentice chef at a restaurant. At night, in his spartan room, he begins to listen to meditation recordings featuring a calming voice dispensing self-help advice such as: “You’re the one in control. Everything will work out for you… The path ahead is open. Every choice is yours.” Is he genuinely convinced by this or is he merely following along so that he can affirmatively respond during his parole meetings?

Once more, Dillane masterfully explores the ambiguity, and on numerous occasions, Mike seems to believe he deserves everyone’s compassion, almost as if he’s entitled as much due to his vulnerability. Not long after, his focus strays from the restaurant job, and his aggressive tendencies reemerge. He lands a position cleaning up public parks and initiates a budding romance with his fellow worker, Andrea (played by Megan Northam), who resides in a caravan.

One night while partying, Andrea, unbeknownst to him being in recovery, administers ketamine to Mike. This thrilling episode finds them spinning around the city to the rhythm of the ’80s French synth-pop hit “Voyage Voyage” by Desireless. However, this drug-induced euphoria triggers a relapse in Mike’s struggle with substance abuse, shattering any fragile stability he had regained as he begins to indulge in heavy drinking with strangers once again.

In these scenes, Dillane’s powerlessness is chilling – pitiful one moment, menacing the next. Stumbling around as he struggles to gather enough money for a small amount of cocaine, he runs into Nathan again. Nathan, it appears, has overcome his addiction and found refuge in an unconventional – likely self-serving – situation. Somehow, amidst his confusion, Mike seems to grasp that this isn’t the kind of resolution he desires.

Towards the end, Dickinson enters a dazed state, echoing Mike’s mental condition as recurring images of the mysterious woman intensify, accompanied by disturbing daydreams that culminate in a powerful, emotionally charged climactic scene.

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As the story nears its conclusion, Dickinson begins to act confused, mimicking Mike’s state of mind, as the enigmatic woman’s visions grow more frequent and other, unsettling fantasies emerge, peaking in a potent, emotionally evocative final moment.

In this production, it’s the exceptional, humble actor (the lead, son of Stephen Dillane), who portrays the character, who truly brings “Urchin” to life. He has immersed himself deeply into the world of addiction and homelessness, showing a courageous readiness to follow the script wherever it leads his character – from exhilarating highs to heart-wrenching lows, including all the accompanying humiliations. The performances by Dickinson and Northam are powerful in their supporting roles, as are several other actors who seem almost like real-life street dwellers. However, this production is essentially a solo act, masterfully guided by Frank Dillane, much like a driver careening out of control, unable to regain grip on the wheel.

Another crucial collaborator is cinematographer Josée Deshaies (known for ‘Passages’ and ‘The Beast’), who skillfully alternates between close-up shots and broader perspectives, her camera moving through the crowd in the city or maintaining a steady gaze, with subtle movements. The visual elements along with Dillane’s acting create an immersive feeling that the movie is always present and happening now.

After his debut in Eliza Hittman’s “Beach Rats”, the young actor Dickinson (still under 30) has largely eschewed the typical paths of romantic comedies and action roles. Instead, he has chosen to collaborate with unique directors such as Joanna Hogg, Ruben Östlund, Sean Durkin, Halina Reijn, and Steve McQueen. He is also set to portray John Lennon in Sam Mendes’ quadrilogy of Beatles movies.

It seems those early works of his served as an unofficial film education, preparing him to handle popular themes with sensitivity, originality, and a keen eye for detail, all evidently gained through intensive observation of a specialized realm.

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2025-05-17 13:55