Well, darlings, who would’ve thought our favorite brooding heartthrob Harris Dickinson would trade his smoldering close-ups for a director’s chair? And honey, he’s done it with the kind of panache that’s got Cannes buzzing faster than a champagne cork at an after-party.
His directorial debut “Urchin” — premiering in Un Certain Regard — isn’t just another gritty British drama about society’s forgotten souls (though heaven knows we’ve seen enough of those). No, this is something altogether more intriguing. Shot in the kind of stark black-and-white that makes London look like a fever dream, it’s giving us echoes of early Jarmusch with a dash of Ken Loach’s social conscience.
Frank Dillane (remember him from “Fear the Walking Dead”?) delivers the kind of performance that makes casting directors sit up straight in their ergonomic chairs. His homeless character Michael speaks in the kind of polished tones that suggest trust funds and private schools — a delicious hint at a past life that the film, thankfully, refuses to spell out in tedious flashbacks.
The genesis of “Urchin” comes from a place of genuine frustration with Britain’s ongoing housing crisis (and darling, don’t even get me started on those property prices in 2025). Dickinson, in a refreshingly un-celebrity move, actually volunteered with London’s Under One Sky organization before putting pen to paper. It shows.
But here’s where things get interesting — and trust me, I’ve seen enough first-time director vanity projects to know when something special comes along. Rather than wallowing in misery (which would’ve been the easy route), Dickinson takes us on unexpected detours into surrealism. There’s this absolutely gorgeous sequence following water down a prison drain that somehow ends up in the ocean… it’s the kind of visual poetry that makes you forget you’re watching a film about homelessness.
Dickinson himself pops up as Nathan, a junkie whose actions set everything in motion. It’s a small role, but he plays it with the kind of restraint that suggests he’s learned a thing or two about letting the camera do the heavy lifting.
The film’s journey to Cannes is itself worthy of a screenplay — picture Dickinson and his producers doing the equivalent of speed dating with investors, pitching their vision six times a day. That kind of hustle deserves respect, especially when the result is this accomplished.
Speaking of hustling, our boy isn’t resting on his laurels. He’s already prepping to play John Lennon in Sam Mendes’s upcoming Beatles project (and honestly, the resemblance is uncanny). But that’s a story for another column…
What makes “Urchin” truly remarkable isn’t just its confident visual language or its resistance to neat resolutions — it’s how it manages to create something sublime from society’s darkest corners without ever feeling exploitative. In an age where British cinema often feels stuck between heritage costume dramas and kitchen-sink miserablism, Dickinson has crafted something that defies easy categorization.
Mark my words, darlings — we’re watching the emergence of a major filmmaking talent. And in this business, that’s rarer than a genuine smile at a Hollywood premiere.
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