THE STORY – A homeless person in London struggles to break free from a cycle of self-destruction while trying to turn his life around.
THE CAST – Frank Dillane, Amr Waked, Murat Erkek, Karyna Khymchuk, Shonagh Marie & Harris Dickinson
THE TEAM – Harris Dickinson (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 99 Minutes
This year’s Un Certain Regard at the Cannes Film Festival is the year for actors turned debut directors. Kristen Stewart with “The Chronology Of Water,” Scarlett Johansson with “Eleanor The Great,” and here, Harris Dickinson’s “Urchin.” Within the opening few minutes of Dickinson’s gritty indie drama, it is clear that this is not simply a vanity project. This is Dickinson announcing himself to the world as a real filmmaker. For proof of his ambition, one just needs to look at the production schedule, which featured 39 shooting locations in 28 days. Many of them at night in the darkest, most dangerous streets of London, not for the faint-hearted of first-time filmmakers. As an actor, he has already worked with and learned from incredible talent such as Ruben Ostland, Halina Reijn, and Steve McQueen. However, this feature feels more inspired by his collaboration with Charlotte Ryan on “Scrapper” and one of his personal heroes, Ken Loach. One assumes Loach is a hero anyway, based on the evidence of a “Kes” tattoo visible on Dickinson’s character during certain scenes of “Babygirl.” But that’s beside the point. Dickinson has a bold vision for this film that feels akin to the Safdie Brothers, and his command over the tone, pacing, and performances are all highly impressive, considering this is his first film.
The film’s title, “Urchin,” may conjure images of “Oliver Twist”-esque young men in ragged clothes and dirty faces. Forget Dickensian; this is Dickinson’s London. There is an intimacy to the streets and the people who sleep rough on them. The ones that most others would rather walk by and pretend are not there. One of those people is Mike, a member of those forgotten and ignored by society. He is homeless, sleeping on the streets at night in a sleeping bag and on cardboard boxes, and has to charge his phone in restaurants. When introduced to the character, he is drifting through life and London like a ghost and looking for money for his next drug-addicted score. Harris Dickinson also briefly plays another fellow homeless addict named Nathan, who Mike knows but has a distrustful relationship with. Ultimately, Mike is all alone, mainly because he chooses to be. Mike mugs a man who simply wants to help him and desperately tries to pawn his watch but gets caught by the cops and is forced into a program to get his life together and hopefully avoid jail time. He gets a job as a chef at a hotel kitchen and has a brief stint of sobriety for seven months, but we know deep down that this likely won’t last even though we’re rooting for Mike to succeed. Mike has a path of rehabilitation and potential redemption before him, but will he take it, or is he content with throwing his life down the drain?
Frank Dillane delivers a powerful, naturalistic performance that perfectly fits the film’s tone as his character navigates the highs and lows of life on the streets. Finding moments of levity and hope in the tragedy of Mike’s story, Dickinson never asks us to judge Mike, despite the many questionable things he does, but rather see the man behind the actions. This is possible thanks to the excellent work of cinematographer Josee Deshaies (“The Beast” and “Passages“). She knows when to hold back and precisely when to move in with the camera as the long, slow push-ins ratchet up the tension. Because Deshaies keeps that observational distance, it means that when there is a significant movement within the frame, it generates more impact. What stands out are two moments, particularly when the camera slowly moves in on Mike’s face. One is during a karaoke night out, and the other is during a court-arranged meeting with the victim of his assault. One reveals a genuine sense of happiness, possibly for the first real-time in a long time. The other highlights the guilt and shame felt within.
That overwhelming emotion risks everything Mike has managed to rebuild so far. This film is all about risks, and Harris is not afraid to make bold artistic choices. For example, it was certainly not on this reviewer’s Cannes bingo card that one of the festival’s most uplifting and euphoric scenes would be soundtracked by Atomic Kitten’s “Whole Again.” The electronic score is not a constant presence throughout the film, but when it kicks in, it too adds a level of intrigue and stress to the proceedings as we know something is about to go down for Mike, one way or another.
Also, a shift into the symbolic and surreal during the film’s conclusion has the potential to divide and alienate some viewers. It is a radical departure and tonal change from the film’s gritty realism up to that point. However, there are enough minor touches peppered throughout, combined with the psychedelic influence of drugs ingested by the main character, that it ultimately does work. It is clear that the subject matter is something the writer-director has a deeply personal connection with but has wisely avoided the temptation to make some form of political statement. Instead, he is focused on telling the human side of homelessness and the painful cycle of addiction.
Mike needs to be told what to do by others rather than having his own independence. Unlike this character, Dickinson has total and complete independence, forging ahead to make one of the year’s most confident and fantastic directorial debuts. This has allowed Dickinson to find his voice as a storyteller, a voice that is here, fully formed, and with many stories to tell that will surely resonate in the film industry for years to come.
