Stray (2020) (Review) - London Film Festival 2020

 

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a stray dog wandering the streets of Turkey? Well, Elizabeth Lo's new documentary, Stray, provides such an insight, offering a dog's eye journey through a country who have been trying - and failing - to deal with its stray problem since the early 1900s. 

A Boyhood for dogs, 'slice of life' takes on a new meaning in this documentary, doubling as a love letter for man's best friend. Filmed between 2017 and 2019, Stray follows Zeytin and his canine buddies - and later, his human companions - for a lean 72 minutes, exploring both the streets and Turkish society through this admirably unique lens. With the camera rarely leaving the ground, we feel embedded in Zeytin's world and surroundings, where - in one memorable moment - the hustle and bustle around him is contrasted with his stillness, as he lies knawing on a discarded bone, as some reach to embrace him, some chase him away.

With no strict narrative requirements, Stray punctuates Zeytin's day-to-day activities with various quotes to provide it with some semblances of structure and guidance, as well as some philosophy that instils a profoundness in the most surprising of places. As Zeytin comes into contact with two vagabonds, we see that perhaps human and dog aren't as unalike as we may assume, with the way we treat our four-legged friends often reflective of our own morality.

Observant and surprisingly tranquil, Stray is an interesting and creative way of exploring a country and wider humanity while placing an adorable man's best friend as its tour guide. Lovely yet sad in equal measures, this unique concept and its impressive execution label Elizabeth Lo as an exciting new voice with this breakthrough feature documentary debut.

Summary: Stray leads its audience on a dog's eye view of the streets it roams in a clever, insightful and surprisingly philosophical feature documentary debut from Elizabeth Lo.