Harris Dickinson’s Urchin is a magnetic study of life on the margins

Harris Dickinson has always been fascinated by the elusive nature of the human mind. From playing a model using his body for survival (Triangle of Sadness) to an enigmatic intern seducing his boss (Babygirl) to a bruised delinquent yearning for connection (Beach Rats), it’s no surprise the British actor’s feature directorial debut, Urchin, is an intense portrait of the human spirit.

The 29-year-old east Londoner first stepped behind the camera for his 2021 short film, 2003, an emotional tale of a strained father-son connection in a young soldier’s final day before deployment. It’s a striking short that proved it would only be a matter of time before Dickinson’s feature directorial ambitions could be fulfilled. “My understanding of directing is just beginning,” Dickinson explains, sipping his tea in a London hotel room as he muses on both acting and directing in his debut. “But I’m very happy just to be the actor and be directed. I don’t like to get too involved in other people’s worlds, and I’m happy to save my energy for my projects.”

Urchin follows a young man on society’s margins trying to get his life back together and break free from a self-destructive cycle of prison, isolation, alcohol, drugs and homelessness. We meet Mike (Frank Dillane) waking up in an underpass, gathering his belongings from behind a bin and setting off to find his friend, Nathan (played by Dickinson). The film chronicles Mike falling through gaps in the system and the impact on his mental and physical health. Although the film embodies British kitchen sink thematics, it also incorporates magical realism and a playful comedic spirit that lifts Urchin from conventional rhythms. 

Dazed sat down with Dickinson to discuss his first foray into feature filmmaking, the autobiographical aspects of his film and playing John Lennon. 

I wanted to start with your approach to the topics of homelessness and addiction, which is empathetic without infantilisation. The word authentic has been used to describe the film, but what does authentic mean to you in Urchin?

Harris Dickinson: The pursuit of authenticity was always a day-one priority with how we investigated those themes: prison reform, probation, restorative justice, homelessness, addiction and mental health. When I was writing, it was the priority in terms of inviting people in to scrutinise the script and getting it factually to a place where we were coming from the right direction. 

From there, we could make departures in terms of cinematic language and not be too tied to timeline specifics. It was also about trying to find our way into this very interior world and access someone at the centre of a really precarious journey without judgment. For us, that meant not blaming people, not at probation or any institutional level. 

The same with Frank: I didn’t want him to just be a victim, so it was important that we presented it without judgment and heavy-handed social messages or lessons. I think it ultimately becomes just a human story, and then the rest is up for observation rather than direction or forceful storytelling.

There is an insular nature to this film, which reminded me of your short, 2003, but Urchin has autobiographical aspects in terms of its location. Tell me about your relationship with this area and community.

Harris Dickinson: I don’t claim to have gone through what Mike’s gone through, but there are definitely personal experiences in the proximity to certain issues, and the closeness I’ve had to those in my life and people I’ve encountered doing that kind of work in my community.

But it’s also the stuff I see in myself, the potential that I can see in myself, the delicacy of a mind. That’s something I don’t take lightly. We’re all very vulnerable creatures; that’s a universal thing. On a factual level, the hotel where he works, I worked there for three years. The litter picking in London Bridge is where I worked as well; that was my patch of park. There are certain things that I wrote into the script because it was closer to experiences I had.

The first time we see you and Frank together is in an argument where you wrestle each other to the ground. How was it to direct Frank and then act alongside him? 

Harris Dickinson: Hard, if I’m being totally honest. I didn’t intend to be in the film. We had an actor drop out. I knew the character and what the role needed, so it made sense. But when I was on set, it was difficult and contentious with myself. Code-switching and trying to observe while being in the moment is counterintuitive. Then, having to direct an actor you’re working with directly, in front of them, is weird. So I probably won’t do it again.

Do you view acting and directing as two different mindsets?

Harris Dickinson: Well, I dreaded the acting side of it when those were coming up. It was four days over five weeks, so luckily I didn’t have to do it regularly. I just worried about taking my eyes off the ball, missing things and not being fully engaged with things behind the camera. But it was fun. That fight scene was silly and kind of pathetic. We were rolling around, and I was whispering things like, ‘Just hit me hard,’ and, ‘Get up now and shout.’ It’s mad that we were just messing about in those moments.

Watching the film, you can see the British kitchen sink drama influence, like Mike Leigh and Ken Loach, but there’s also a sense of magical realism in the visuals. Tell me about balancing that sense of political and artistry.

Harris Dickinson: It was always clear from the script that the film was never going to be just one thing; this underworld was always supposed to be floating underneath the film. I feel that in my life, there’s this undercurrent happening below the surface that sometimes opens up when you’re daydreaming. Time feels like it has suspended, and our mind steps into a different zone. That’s always been a part of me and perhaps a coping mechanism for reality. 

I’ve always been interested in the surreal and what that means for stories. I really like fairy tales, fables and folklore. So, I was like, ‘How do I do this in a way that’s delicate but unafraid?’ There’s always a risk that people can’t get on board with it, but I don't care.

We’re all very vulnerable creatures; that’s a universal thing

As you’ve mentioned, this film also explores mental health, and I found Mike’s use of self-help meditation tapes really interesting. They are his access to therapy, in a way. Why was that important for you to explore?

Harris Dickinson: Speaking about my own experience with self-help and spirituality, I found it useful, but confronting. It’s designed to calm the mind, but it makes us go inwards to a place that’s really confronting, the same with tranquillity, nature and peace. It takes a lot to sit in that comfortably. For someone like Mike, who’s been masking his pain, it’s aggressive and tricky, but also empowering. We see the self-help journey go from observation to empowerment to frustration, where he smashes it. So it was an important little friend that he made in the film and then decided to break up with. 

Urchin has been so well received. Would you want to direct again? Especially with your production company, Devisio Pictures, to support?

Harris Dickinson: Absolutely! Yeah, I have another film I’m developing, but I’ll just take my time with it. But the production company stuff is nice because it just means we can kind of facilitate other projects separate from me as an actor or a filmmaker. I can produce and help, but ultimately, we have ambitions outside of me. We want to champion other work and set things up. It’s just nice to be kind of engulfed by film.

You had some of your fellow Beatles boys, Barry Keoghan and Paul Mescal, at the UK Urchin premiere. It’s a massive four-film undertaking to play John Lennon. Is there a particular challenge you’ve faced when it comes to depicting the musician?

Harris Dickinson: There’s no short, sweet, easy answer to that. I think there are so many different challenges wrapped up in playing a real-life person, let alone an extremely iconic real-life person. I think there are complexities along the whole route, but we are lucky that we’ve had time, we’ve had a lot of care, a huge amount of diligence by our director Sam [Mendes], who cares so deeply and has the most amazing mind for this kind of project. So I just have to trust that and allow myself to be held by that, and keep on working. I don’t think that work ever stops. But… yeah, I’ve already said too much.

Urchin is out in UK cinemas on October 3.