There’s something interesting about films with a simple premise that still manage to feel layered and thoughtfully constructed. There’s also something remarkable in movies that seem to set up a familiar character arc, only to take unexpected turns that challenge one’s perception of the protagonists and one’s assumptions about where the story is going. At moments like these, stepping back as a viewer and allowing the film to unfold on its own terms can reveal the value of experiencing a story without needing to control or predict it. Urchin [+lee también:
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In Harris Dickinson’s feature debut, screening in Cannes’ Un Certain Regard, Frank Dillane is Mike, an unpredictable character whose background remains mostly unexplored and whose future is equally uncertain, as the man goes through ups and downs throughout the film and changes his attitude towards life as events unfold. In the beginning, we see him, homeless, begging unsuccessfully around Central London until a man decides to help him, only to be robbed by him within a few minutes. From that moment on, Mike will try his utmost to escape the pull of drug addiction and alcohol abuse by working and being sociable – but the ladder to redemption is a hard one to climb.

With his scruffy, dishevelled appearance and his uncanny resemblance to a young Johnny Depp, Dillane’s Mike draws the audience’s attention from the very start and retains it throughout the film. In one scene, he appears to channel Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver, punching the air and speaking to an imaginary figure. Moments like this suggest a link between Mike and other iconic characters – or, more broadly, between Urchin and similar movies. Some of its more stylised sequences (such as the parallel underground world or the ending itself) evoke some of the visually boldest scenes of other British successes like Trainspotting and Under the Skin [+lee también:
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All of the side characters revolve around Mike, an intoxicated “sun” who can’t keep his focus on any of them for too long, even when love seems to be within reach. While all the attention is on Dillane, and thankfully so, Harris Dickinson himself can be found playing Nathan, a marginal character that seems to be the only connection to Mike’s life before the scenes start unfolding. In fact, while doing his best to stay on track, the protagonist chooses to ignore Nathan when he accidentally bumps into him, as if trying to keep his old habits at a distance.

There is a combination of elements that makes Urchin an interesting work and an unbelievably well-crafted debut, two of them being some great sound design and a perfectly selected soundtrack, which both elevate the visuals and fit perfectly with the editing. The work’s greatest strength is its refusal to pass judgement. It neither portrays its main character as deserving of sympathy simply because of his struggles, nor condemns him outright for his harmful actions. Last but not least, the screenplay introduces various moments of light-hearted comedy that successfully strike a balance between full-on humour and the melodrama that could have easily emerged as dominant from a similar plot, if it weren’t in Dickinson’s capable hands.

Urchin was produced by the UK’s Somesuch, Devisio Pictures, BBC Films, the BFI and Tricky Knot. It is sold internationally by Charades.