STRAY: FILM REVIEW
Ever since 1909, Turkey had a policy permitting the eradication of stray dogs. However, due to a recent onslaught of protests, Turkey is now one of the only countries where it is illegal to euthanize any stray dog or hold them captive. The stray dogs of Istanbul, Turkey are the subjects of Hong Kong filmmaker Elizabeth Lo’s Stray — a documentary that takes the viewer into the day-to-day life of stray lab Zeytin and her fellow dogs, carefully following and filming them as they wander through the streets of Istanbul. Spliced throughout the film are textual quotes from ancient philosophers regarding their observations about the nature of dogs.
Stray is as much a documentary about the dogs of Istanbul and the city as it is an observation about human nature. Lo makes this intention clear from the start, as the film opens with a quote from ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes that reads, “Human beings live artificially and hypocritically and would do well to study the dog.” By following stray dogs through the city and placing them at the center of the narrative, Lo presents a stark contrast between the relative simplicity with which dogs approach their surroundings and the unnecessary complexities that humans weave into their life.
The film’s dialogue is naturally quite sparse, but when sounds and conversations between people are recorded, they sound muffled — putting the viewer more snugly into the shoes of Zeytin and her companions. Often, Lo uses conversations about love and relationships to ridicule people. Upbeat music plays as Zeytin crosses the street onto a busy sidewalk. A woman places her hand on his head, ruffling her fur as she converses: “If he said he wanted to get rid of me because I was bothering him, why didn’t he change his phone number? Why did he answer me?” Zeytin carries on briskly, seemingly without a care. The woman continues to be mentally plagued by something trivial, probably at least for the rest of the day.
Stray uses the interactions between people and the stray dogs as a reflection of the way that humans treat each other and those around them. When Zeytin poops on the grass in the park, two tourists sitting nearby comment on how disgusting her behavior is. They say it to Zeytin’s face, as if she can understand. They know she can’t, but they want her to. Other people look at the dogs with disdain as they dig through the trash — scoffing at their “unruly” behavior. Ultimately, their actions reflect a quote Lo inserts from Greek philosopher Themistius that reads, “Dogs keep watch over human beings, not to ensure that they do not lose their property, but rather that they do not get robbed of their integrity.”
Although simplistic in its plot, Stray uses very little to provide an expansive view of the lives of stray dogs and the orchestrated nature of human life. For most of the film, the viewer is placed at dog-height, and even such a perspective expertly portrays the layout of the city and how the dogs navigate through it. Lo ties the film together with a beautiful soundtrack composed by Ali Helnwein, making brisk runs through alleyways and sauntering adventures with Syrian teenage boys much more tender. Dog-lover or not, the dogs of Stray have a lot of wisdom to teach us, and the film is worth a watch.