So far, 2025 has seen a flood of actors take the daunting leap into directing. From Maude Apatow’s Poetic License to Brian Cox’s Glenrothan, they are inescapable. However, just because actors are in a position where they can direct films, it does not mean they always should. There is the risk of directorial endeavors turning into substanceless vanity projects. The latest to join this chorus is everyone’s favorite internet boyfriend, Harris Dickinson. But can he tell a story as compellingly as he embodies one in Urchin?
Urchin allows us to observe what it is really like to be homeless in one of the world’s most developed cities through Mike (Frank Dillane). It is said that 1 in 47 people who live in London are homeless, a number that has been growing at an alarming rate over the past 20 years. Attached to these stark statistics is a rise in stigma and a lack of empathy towards this group. Dickinson authentically informs the audience of the struggle, resilience, and dread associated with homelessness, irrespective of how they arrive at this point in their lives.
In his breakout role, Dillane understands that there is a complexity to Mike that needs to be treated with extra care. He strikes a calculated balance between rehabilitating and self-destructive behavior, constantly forcing the audience to decide whether they want to root for Mike. I welcome this characterization of a morally ambiguous individual, as it is true to what we would see out in the world. It’s no wonder he received the Best Actor Un Certain Regard for the role.
The real shining star of the film is the narrative. The smaller moments in life are the ones that sent Mike into downward spirals, even at his happiest. Whether it was off-hand comments made towards him or struggling to keep up with his new job, it served as a reminder of who he used to be, causing him to regress back to it as if he were unworthy of the growth he had already achieved. Dickinson’s screenplay endlessly flickers between being flattening and hopeful, never romanticizing or glorifying the real hardships Mike faces, no matter how unassuming they may be.
I have not been able to stop thinking about how the way Dickinson’s writing fully encapsulates the film’s title, Urchin. Once a sea urchin is on you, they are hard to shake off and painful to remove. However, once they are off, they leave marks, and it is very easy to be struck by them again, akin to Mike’s journey towards shedding his past. Yet another reason why Dickinson’s creative voice is a force to be reckoned with.
Location manager Karin Kavanagh worked closely with Dickinson to bring his vision of Urchin to life within East London. There is an obvious lack of certainty that comes with homelessness. The inability to have a place to call your own can seep into the stability felt in life. We see this effectively conveyed through the continual shift in setting made possible by Kavanagh’s clever choices of locations. We are taken from bustling streets during working hours to secluded spots within a matter of minutes, perfectly visualising this instability. Mike is forced to readapt every day to what his environment throws at him, illustrating and emphasizing the significance of location in the feature.
Often, the tone matches what we have previously seen in Charlotte Regan’s Scrapper (2023), in which Dickinson also stars. Both unapologetically embrace what is deemed as the “unglamorous” side of London, exploring the lives of those living in less affluent towns of the city. Yet what sets them apart is their willingness to stretch beyond the constraints of realism.
Urchin dabbles in ambitious surrealist sequences occurring at the pivotal points in Mike’s life. This is precisely what differentiates Dickinson’s directing from others coming out of London, opting for more daring swings that, while they don’t always work, offer a unique lens on British stories.
In an age where we are seeing many actors make the transition over into directing, Dickinson is a rare example where you can feel that he was made for this. The storytelling achieved here is treated with the necessary attentiveness to convey a beautifully honest representation of being homeless on the streets of London. He has a fire within him to craft extraordinarily grounded stories to a standard that excites me for a budding filmmaker. Urchin is the initial fuel to his flame that I hope burns bright for a long time.
Review Courtesy of Nandita Joshi
Feature Image Credit to Picturehouse Entertainment via Festival De Cannes