I gave "Kedi" a 10 rating on IMDb. In the early 2000's, the most spiritual film arguably was "March of the Penguins," about eccentric mating rituals but much more about the holiness of life and the will to live among eccentric wild animals. The *exact* is true, but in much more human-friendly terms, about "Kedi." "Variety" calls this film "graceful," which its lovely (xylophone?) soundtrack emphasizes. "Kedi" is urban, fast-paced, and deceptively lighthearted--deceptively because "Kedi" is about the universal need humans have to care for animal life. The narratives the various street cats' food- and love-providers give offer insights into the needs of humans much more than the needs of the cats. One man in particular, who wanders each day feeding the cats with sacks of food, explains bluntly that he suffered a nervous breakdown fifteen years ago, and that the only thing that raised him out of his depression was taking care of the strays, and that, in this discipline, he found meaning and happiness. A constant refrain that all the food- and love-givers repeat is that without the ability to love animals, we do not have the ability love one another.
"Kedi" raises some questions the producers leave unanswered. A few of the human "supporting cast" bring up the matter of neutering, but at least this viewer was mildly stunned by the lack of concern in general for the cat overpopulation. (I'd have donated instantly to an international or domestic U.S. Go Fund Me account!) The film also repeats how urbanization is destroying the seaside lands the cats depend on for survival--and no one addresses any animal rights group's efforts to step in and help. The irony is how the film's impact is all the stronger for its total silence on controversial topics, because in the end, "Kedi" is just about love. As "March of the Penguins" was about the will to live, "Kedi" is about love, pure and simple, from the ginger mother cat's odd adaptation to hunting-and-gathering for her kittens back in a stairwell, to the older folks for whom the cats are a reason for living and armor against loneliness, we see the innate and complex human and feline need for one another. Another, and maybe the most potent, message of the film is that keeping domestic animals as pets is in the end unworkable. Many of the people interviewed say that cats do not belong indoors, and that being kept indoors changes and even destroys a cat's nature. Whether a viewer holds deep opinions on this increasingly widely held but controversial subject is yet another of the themes "Kedi" stays as silent on as the cats who star in it. Finally, "Kedi" interviews a charming Muslim who tells how as a boy he and his brother planted Christian crosses on the graves of cats that died and that they gave proper burials to; and how their father was infuriated that they would convert to Christianity as a result of their little rituals. And then the young man says what will make everyone cry: he could not have survived to adulthood without his love of the street cats. That's about as primal a statement about our shared humanity as you'll see in this year of a world increasingly divided by religious and political strife.
"Kedi" is about YOU. It's about your response to neediness, to vulnerable innocence, and to the universal truth that the only thing the world really needs is love. "Kedi" may have human competition for best film of 2017; for me, it will be the Best Film of the Decade.
"Kedi" raises some questions the producers leave unanswered. A few of the human "supporting cast" bring up the matter of neutering, but at least this viewer was mildly stunned by the lack of concern in general for the cat overpopulation. (I'd have donated instantly to an international or domestic U.S. Go Fund Me account!) The film also repeats how urbanization is destroying the seaside lands the cats depend on for survival--and no one addresses any animal rights group's efforts to step in and help. The irony is how the film's impact is all the stronger for its total silence on controversial topics, because in the end, "Kedi" is just about love. As "March of the Penguins" was about the will to live, "Kedi" is about love, pure and simple, from the ginger mother cat's odd adaptation to hunting-and-gathering for her kittens back in a stairwell, to the older folks for whom the cats are a reason for living and armor against loneliness, we see the innate and complex human and feline need for one another. Another, and maybe the most potent, message of the film is that keeping domestic animals as pets is in the end unworkable. Many of the people interviewed say that cats do not belong indoors, and that being kept indoors changes and even destroys a cat's nature. Whether a viewer holds deep opinions on this increasingly widely held but controversial subject is yet another of the themes "Kedi" stays as silent on as the cats who star in it. Finally, "Kedi" interviews a charming Muslim who tells how as a boy he and his brother planted Christian crosses on the graves of cats that died and that they gave proper burials to; and how their father was infuriated that they would convert to Christianity as a result of their little rituals. And then the young man says what will make everyone cry: he could not have survived to adulthood without his love of the street cats. That's about as primal a statement about our shared humanity as you'll see in this year of a world increasingly divided by religious and political strife.
"Kedi" is about YOU. It's about your response to neediness, to vulnerable innocence, and to the universal truth that the only thing the world really needs is love. "Kedi" may have human competition for best film of 2017; for me, it will be the Best Film of the Decade.