Kedi, 2016.
Directed by Ceyda Torun.
Starring Sari (The Hustler), Bengu (The Lover), Aslan Parcasi (The Hunter), Psikpot (The Psycho), Deniz (The Social Butterfly), Duman (The Gentleman), and Gamsiz (The Player).
SYNOPSIS:
For hundreds of years, cats have roamed the street of Istanbul, wandering in and out of people’s lives and becoming an essential part of them. Neither wild nor tame, they don’t belong to anybody, but some have people they like to spend time with. It’s a co-existence that benefits and enriches everybody.
Modern Istanbul sprawls across the screen, a mix of the coastal, the ramshackle urban and the sleek, affluent modern. Far below, on the ground, there’s people, cars – and something else. Look closely and, in just about every landscape, there’s a cat: half tucked away in a corner or sauntering down the street. A tiny, four-legged creature, completely at ease with its surroundings. There’s always a cat because the city belongs just as much to them as to the people that live there.
In Ceyda Torun’s Kedi, they co-exist very happily. The people we meet aren’t experts or talking heads, but simply locals who live alongside the cats. Some come close to being owners – a couple of cats are unusual in that they wear collars – others tend for the groups who roam the neighbourhood, feeding them every single day and believing that the cats have helped them personally, giving them a purpose. Yet more look after individuals, observe them, enjoy their individual personalities, their likes and dislikes. And they’re all different: as one of the many voices observes affectionately, you can see it in their faces.
Seven of them, all from different parts of the city, get starring roles. And everybody will have their favourite. There’s Psikopat (aka The Psycho), a black and white female who jealously defends her “husband” from the attentions of any other, prettier females. And always wins. Or Duman (The Gentleman), a smoky grey and white tom who lives in one of Istanbul’s poshest suburbs and is looked after by a restaurant. He never comes indoors for be fed, waiting instead outside the door and pawing at the window when he’s hungry. And there’s Sari (The Hustler), a little yellow tabby whose left her lazy days behind her. With kittens to look after, she’s a one woman food seeking missile, constantly being chased away from cafes, but looked after by one particular shopkeeper.
All of which is immensely appealing to anybody who loves cats, but there’s more than just moggy charm at work here, something more profound and reflective. It’s not an idealized portrait either: most of the cats are very well cared for – residents have running tabs at the local vets – but there’s glimpses of the realities of life on the streets. Boxes of newborn kittens dumped on the doorstep of a known cat lover, the inevitably noisy cat fights and a fragile kitten close to death after being attacked by a larger adult. Whether it survives we never find out.
There’s a parallel between the street cats and the people around them. The individual characters, the conflicts, and the co-existence. And that makes the film a portrait of several overlapping communities. And the joint cat/human community is one where caring and kindness outstrip everything else. Looking after the cats is all that matters to the people we meet – like the ones who cook 20lbs of chicken every single day to feed them. The benefits of caring for something else and how, despite their reputation for being distant, cats can build a connection when they want to is touchingly apparent. If one of them chooses to be with you, it’s an honour – even when you’re just one of a long line.
The internet is overrun with cute cat videos, but Kedi is another breed altogether. Yes, it’ll inevitably appeal to cat lovers, but those who usually resistant to their charms will find plenty to think about as well.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Freda Cooper. Follow me on Twitter, check out my movie blog and listen to my podcast, Talking Pictures.