Movie review: Kedi

Much like the cats who form its physical and emotional centrepiece, it is all too easy to underestimate the power of Kedi, a film which provides us with an unexpectedly moving account of the stray cats of Istanbul and the many people who interact with them on a daily basis.

Walking into the film, you assume you will be getting some light, fun profiles of cats both feisty and cuddly, a jaunty, amusing detailing of the many creative ways that Felis Catus has insinuated itself into the lifeblood of the city and the many, varied people who call it home.

That is there, of course, and provides many of the outright laughs and gentle chuckles that punctuate audience reaction to this whimsically engaging film by Ceyda Torun who has captured not just the independent bravura and chutzpah of Sari, Duman, Bengü, Aslan Parçasi, Gamsiz, Psikopat, and Deniz, but the deep, strong connections they make to the people around them, many of them show great kindness to these homeless felines.

In fact, time after time you are struck with great forcefulness by how potent, meaningful and in many ways necessary these connections are.

There is one man who goes from neighbourhood to neighbourhood every day feeding cats, at his own expense, an errand that many of his friends affectionately regard as eccentric – they reason God will provide for the cats; their feeder sees himself instead as God’s arm to make this happen – but which he sees as vital to his ongoing emotional and mental health.

Suffering a nervous breakdown in 2002, he argues with quiet passion and unwavering belief that it was the cats that brought him back from the precipice, who gave him a reason for staying alive, even restoring his willingness to speak and interact with others.

Far from just feeding the cats, many of whom sit waiting for him as he enters abandoned buildings and the docks of commercial premises, this is a holy calling of sorts, and the main motivation to get out of bed in the morning.

Similarly one lady speaks expansively, and with self-aware humour of the fact that dispensing 10 kg of chicken to the scattered felines of her neighbourhood is therapy for her, something she been doing for years, leading her to muse whether she will ever fully be healed. She doesn’t seem to care, happy to be doing her part to give her life meaning, the cats food, and the city a little more colour and personality.

It’s noted at the start of the film that the multitudinous, eclectic bands of cats, representing a motley number of breeds, many of whom arrived via ship over the many centuries that Istanbul, straddling the vital transport hub of the Bosporus, provide culture, chaos and life to Istanbul, which would lose much of its character if the cats were to suddenly disappear.

As you meet the seven cats at the centre of Kedi‘s narrative, and glimpse many others in passing, all masterfully captured in their natural surrounds by cinematographers Alp Korfali and Charlie Wuppermann, you begin to realise how powerfully important these diminutive but personality-rich creatures are to the people of Istanbul.

But as Kedi goes on, you come to realise that far from their presence being assured in perpetuity, that it risks being swept away by the remorseless march of modern Turkey through many of the delightfully ramshackle neighbourhoods of Istanbul.

So at risk are they a high-rise residential towers and freeways cut through old markets and homes, that one woman wonders how much longer they’ll hang on, fearful their disappearance will diminish many aspects of peoples’ lives. The connections between the cats and their self-appointed protectors is so deeply-ingrained and so emotionally important for everyone from the deli owners who feed one cat who has adopted them (not the other way around) to the people close to the “neighbourhood psychopath” cat who bosses her husband, fellow cats and even the humans in close proximity, that one woman notes with some amusement that even with their old neighbourhood under threat from redevelopment that she fears more for the cat’s welfare than her own.

And that is, in essence, the real power of Kedi.

It reaffirms the deep, abiding power of real connection and that all of us need it in some form or another or we risk losing a part of ourselves. The people who routinely look after the cats, such as the fisherman who feeds a litter of kitten, long abandoned by their mother, every day and who is touchingly grateful for the companionship of the adult cats who accompany him on his fishing expeditions, mention this over and over again, touching on the power of community that is great in large and small rich ways by the opinionated, lovable cats.

Kedi also shows off how a city as sprawling and potentially impersonal as Istanbul becomes a series of tight, interwoven communities thanks to the presence of the cats on every stoop, wharf, seat and balcony on offer (and even those that aren’t).

Ultimately what Kedi brings us is a loving portrayal of a city that owes as much to its cats as to its people.

Through a subtle, nuanced narrative that is never gathers up any more speed than it needs to as it takes us on a soul-restorative tour through the lives of Istanbul’s cats and its people, we are treated to a vivid reaffimation of the power of connecting with others, even if they are sometimes irascible cats who may or may let you hang around (spoiler alert: bring them food and they often will, along with a great deal of affection).

As someone who experienced an inordinate amount of bullying right through school, and who experienced profound solace through the companionship of a series of cats who loved even when my peers didn’t, I can attest to both the power and the necessity of these connections. Kedi works because it not only links the cats and people together in meaningful fashion, but because, without fanfare or any kind of twee emotional manipulation, demonstrates how vital they are.

Yes, the cats are the stars of the show but the people aren’t far behind, and you are left with an enduring sense, after the magnetically-beautiful soundtrack has played its last, that Felis Catus and Homo Sapiens are forever intertwined, and eternally all the richer for it.