It’s always a risky gamble when a prominent actor tries their hand behind the camera for the first time; for every Good Night, and Good Luck, there’s a hundred other Leatherheads. There’s no clear recipe for success, but first-time writer-director Harris Dickinson’s clearly defined vision is what makes Urchin an impressive statement. In fact, Dickinson avoids many of the fatal pratfalls which often lead to actor-directed projects.

One of those frequent, major mistakes is in the director casting themself as the lead character (though he does make a brief appearance in the film’s second half). For Urchin, Dickinson follows Frank Dillane, a steadily working but mostly unknown actor. In fact, most of the film is populated by non-A list performers. This feels less like a budgetary restriction, and more in service to the naturalistic style of the film at large. That is, a man named Mike (Dillane) as he seeks to rebound and rebuild his life on the margins of society.

We first see Mike sleeping on the streets of London, awoken by a sidewalk preacher, where he swiftly kicks into gear asking for spare change to any passers-by. He’s clearly on edge, possibly addicted to any number of substances, and off-putting to everyone he approaches. At the first bit of kindness he receives from a stranger who offers to buy him some food, Mike beats him up and steals his watch, but is quickly arrested. Since this occurs only in the opening 15 minutes, the bulk of Urchin sees Mike try to re-acclimate himself into the workforce and get his life back together.

Unfortunately, he’s working with a hostile system that simply doesn’t have the time or motivation to help him beyond the bare minimum. Though Dickinson wisely chooses not to portray Mike as a simple victim of the system, nor does Urchin ever feel like misery porn, a misguided look at the downtrodden courtesy of the rich and famous. Rather, he’s responsible for his own bad choices, including putting in minimal effort at his hotel restaurant job as a chef. Yes, he listens to self-help tapes regularly, but it’s much harder to put those platitudes into practice once he hits the real world.

Actor-directors tend to veer more towards commercially viable projects (consider Anna Kendrick’s Woman of the Hour or Bradley Cooper’s A Star is Born), but Dickinson seems laser-focused on making a distinct statement. For all his faults outside of his own control, Mike comes off frequently as unlikeable and off-putting. In less assured hands, this could easily alienate the audience. Thankfully, Dickinson’s camera choices aid in showing this descent, as most scenes are shot at a distance, almost as if we’re simply observing a documentary unfolding. Dillane’s powerfully naturalistic performance shouldn’t go unnoticed either, often eschewing the easy tics and body choices we see with drug addicts on film.

It’s not long before Mike falls in with a new co-worker, Andrea (Megan Northam), and backslides back into addiction. This section of Urchin slows down, but Dickinson’s direction continues to impress even when the narrative becomes less interesting. Much like last year’s The Outrun, Dickinson views addiction, and the plight of anyone in the lower class, as a kind of inherited inevitability, ingrained in their DNA. This stance could easily come off as misguided or offensive, but there’s an intrinsic curiosity implied through the film’s visual language.

As an actor, Harris Dickinson feels like he’s on the verge of breaking out as a major Hollywood star because of his standout roles in films like Babygirl and The Iron Claw. Only time will tell whether he’ll continue writing and directing or if he’ll stay in front of the camera, but with Urchin, Dickinson’s future feels ripe with possibilities.

Urchin will be in select theatres on October 10 before expanding nationwide on October 17.

OSCAR POTENTIAL:

• With upstart distributor 1-2 Special on board, and with such prickly subject matter, the Oscar chances for Urchin are next to zero. But this feels like a film destined to dominate the Indie Spirits and the Gotham Awards.