The Daily Beast
The city full of homeless dogs struggling to survive
Magnolia Pictures “You are on your own. Nothing happens to men like us because we live on a daily basis, ”says a Chechen immigrant to Syrian homeless children in Istanbul, Stray. Nomadic and uprooted existences are at the center of the documentary by director / producer / editor / cinematographer Elizabeth Lo, but humans are just the peripheral actors in this impressive nonfiction investigation, which really trains your gaze on some of the myriad canines that roam the streets of the city. A spiritual piece accompanying Ceyda Torun’s Kedi 2016 (which concerns the legions of cats that inhabit this same metropolis), Lo’s film reveals the secret life of dogs. In doing so, she draws striking parallels between their world and ours, and our shared desires for sustenance, comfort and company. After a 20th century in which authorities tried to exterminate animals (leading to mass deaths), widespread protests made the city one of the few places on the planet where it is illegal to euthanize and keep any stray dog in captivity – meaning that on practically all sidewalks, in all alleys and close to each dump, canines gather in search of food, sparring, snout and trying to survive. Their situation is unromantic, although not without their pleasures, and Lo’s camera takes on the whole perspective, maintaining a low position on the ground while following these dogs from side to side, on busy sidewalks where people barely notice them, in streets where cars stop to let them pass and on the beaches where they are free to run, play and roll and occasionally turn and snarl at unknown intruders. a trio of dogs – starting with Zeytin, whose striking tan coloring and large, sad eyes are as expressive as their movements through Istanbul’s various neighborhoods are casual. With an expression sometimes wrinkled on his face and a right ear that hangs a little lower than the left, Zeytin is a native of this urban landscape, equally at ease on his well-paved sidewalks, in his parks next to busy avenues and on irregular stretches of mountainous terrain decorated with giant rocky outcrops and ruins of buildings whose columns are still standing. Zeytin has a confidence that makes her a perfect guide for this environment, as well as making her popular with locals, many of whom know her by name. This includes a collection of young Syrian migrants who live on the streets and, as we learned through random snippets of conversation, are known to sniff glue and are under constant threat of being arrested by the authorities. Zeytin is soon paired in Stray with his friend Nazar and the black and white cub Kartal, the last of whom is in the care of Syrian children after they plead with a local man for one of his many stray animals, and he acquiesces by saying that they can come back at night and steal one for themselves. The similarities between the Istanbul dog and the refugee populations are not difficult to discern, and Director Lo does not italicize or force such echoes, instead of allowing them to materialize from the process in question. Through careful selection and juxtaposition of scenes, she makes an analogy of the struggle of animals and children to survive, their territorial disputes with others (whether with other dogs, or tourists and police officers who prefer to keep the streets free from homeless youths) ), and your desire for love – or, at the very least, a warm body to cuddle under a blanket at night. Lo shares his film with textual quotes about the nobility of dogs (mainly from the Greek philosopher Diogenes, around 300 BC), but otherwise avoids open comments. Even human voices in Stray are heard only in fragments and, sometimes, through distorted audio that is meant to imitate how Zeytin, Nazar and Kartal can experience them. These fragments of dialogue are sometimes comical (like comments about two dogs having sex during a women’s rights march), sometimes political (like when men argue over whether to vote for the Nationalist Movement Party) and sometimes just as common as a lorry truck. trash operator punishing Nazar for not sharing a fleshy bone found in the trash with Zeytin. This commentary is usually a background, but it remains a key component of Lo’s observational examination of the urgent concerns, fissures and treatment of Turkish society for those who reside on its peripheries. Stray is most evocative when he simply trots alongside or behind his canine protagonists, capturing (and subtly imitating) the balance of their bodies, the rhythm of their steps, the curiosity in their eyes and the potential perversity of their circumstances – a fact passed on for an excellent sequence in which Lo’s camera chases Zeytin down a night street, almost to lose sight of it, only to have the euphoria of the moment (amplified by Ali Helnwein’s score) interrupted by a sudden explosion of dog violence against dog that was suppressed by Syrian children. At that moment, the film recognizes the fine divide between ecstasy and brutality that defines the daily situations of these dogs, just as the sound design (courtesy of Leviathan and Ernst Karel of Sweetgrass) duplicates the rotating combination of noises – birds singing, car horns honking, disembodied chatter – which engulfs them as they wander from the dilapidated construction site to the storefront to the gray shipyard. The EMBEDLo portrait of these rebel dogs is often melancholy, especially when it comes to Kartal, whose acclimatization to these aggressive places seems, by the look in his eyes, to inspire a significant degree of trepidation. However, there are also moments of amusing levity, such as when Zeytin trips over a cat hidden in a row of bushes in the park and, suddenly excited by this discovery, goes out in immediate pursuit. Stray does not shy away from good or bad, documenting his four-legged subjects as they jump, run, run, fight, snore, snarl, sleep and seek protection, food and rest. The more you observe them, the more you take advantage of the universality of your experience, all without losing sight of the uniqueness of your character and situation. With perceptive neo-realistic grace, Stray leaves his dogs’ actions in the face of neglect, neglect, and abuse speaks volumes about his resilience and benevolence, his ferocity and his compassion. In doing so, the film also says a lot about men and women willing to help the less fortunate – and also about those who turn a blind eye to creatures in need. Read more at The Daily Beast. top news in your inbox every day. Subscribe now! Daily Beast Membership: Beast Inside goes deeper into the stories that matter to you. To know more.