Stray (2020)

Directed by: Elizabeth Lo | 72 minutes | documentary

Istanbul looks very different from the perspective about 50 cm above the ground, the height at the withers of Zeytin (Turkish for olive). She is a beautiful amber colored Turkish stray with a characterful black muzzle, pointed ears and gentle eyes. She probably contains bloodlines of a Malinois and an Anatolian Shepherd Dog (also called Kangal). Every day she roams the streets and parks of Turkey’s largest city in search of food, a place to sleep and some company.

She finds it with a group of young homeless people from Syria. Together they sleep in a dilapidated building where the youth lives in a twilight world of begging and sniffing glue. Their relationship with the dogs includes the same basic necessities—some food, a little warmth, and a place to rest. In the stray pack is also Nazar, a black dog that somehow reminds of a dusty labrador. She is friendly to Zeytin until food emerges. Then it’s every man for himself. Spotted newcomer Kartal has been stolen from a nest by the homeless youngsters, because begging with an endearing puppy works great on tourists’ compassion glands. They are good for the young dog and will share what little food they have with him.

Zeytin knows instinctively that she has to wait for a speeding car, that she is often not allowed to play with domestic dogs and where to find the best bones. She approaches other dogs just as we often approach strangers; balancing between suspicion and curiosity. There is a lot to read from the position of her ears and her back hairs standing up means ‘I’m watching you…’

Award-winning Chinese director, writer and cinematographer Elizabeth Lo captures the lives of these stray dogs in a fascinating way and the animals are always central, both in the story and in the viewfinder of her camera. But what is just as interesting are the dialogues and the mute conversations that the Turkish population has in the blurred background. They talk about how beautiful and strong Zeytin is and that she should be allowed to go home. Unfortunately for the bitch, because since the new legislation, Turkish stray dogs can no longer be taken home, nor can they be euthanized by the municipality. They are fully accepted by society and are part of the streetscape.

People also talk about contemporary politics and concerns about Erdogan. This way you get an impression of real daily life in Turkey from the wings. Zeytin, in turn, walks cautiously among feminist protestors on National Women’s Day, which is a far cry from the polished, unrealistic Turkish holiday commercials seen on Dutch TV today.

Fellow director Ceyda Torun already made a similar documentary about cats in Istanbul in 2016 called ‘Kedi’. So Elizabeth knows where the challenge lies in terms of cinematography, bystander reactions and the low camera perspective. The scenes from ‘Stray’ seem to be randomly strung together, but it never comes across as messy. With quotes from antiquity, the documentary is loosely divided by these title cards. “Dogs and philosophers do the most good and are the least rewarded,” wrote the Greek dog-loving philosopher Diogenes of Sinope in 368 BC. and his wisdom connects seamlessly with the unconditionality, relentlessness and adventure of a (dog) life on the street.