There are, out there, movies that defy all description. Movies beyond genre or description or even logic that simply exist as part of a block of nebulous wonder. “Urchin” is one of those.
Now that I’ve bullshitted you half to death, this is as far as I can tell the plot of “Urchin”. So there’s a homeless camp under New York City referred to simply as “Scum City”, all the denizens of which are led by a homeless king, and planning to migrate toward the center of the earth to a magical kingdom called “Agharta”. Now, before you start thinking that this is some kind of weird homeless heroin fantasy… well, you might want to keep thinking that. Because there’s a homeless serial killer also roaming the streets, trying to kill his way into the magical land of Agharta himself.
Maybe. Or not. “Urchin”s strong suit is not its coherence of plot. It will spend long minutes rambling about nothing in particular. I don’t know if it’s got some kind of overarching theme or master plan, because frankly, it doesn’t do a whole lot of anything. In fact, there’s a real strong possibility all this “Agharta” business is horseshit perpetrated by an oddly homeless drug kingpin. Again, alarmingly few ways to tell.
And frankly, as entertaining as an eight-year-old drug enforcer armed with an array of homemade armaments might be, it’s still pretty disturbing. Which is a good way to sum up most of “Urchin”–occasionally entertaining but still pretty disturbing. Usually. Most of the time. Oh, and you’re not going to make a lick of sense out of this s**t either. Though even I have to admit that the ending is at least brushing up against “tear-jerker”.
Which means, basically, go and get a copy of “Urchin” if you’re really into pointless nonsense or chick-flick-grade drama or can’t get enough of watching an eight year old make a cattle prod out of a six-volt lantern battern, wire, and a fork.
