I have recently been touched by the cat gods and converted to one of their own. So watching this lovingly made documentary about the cats of Malta was something I did not want to miss out on. It proved an endearing companion for a Sunday when the winds change, although it doesn't break new ground in its exploration.
In terms of structure and content, the movie is fairly similar to what you've (probably) seen in Kedi. But whereas Ceyda Torun's film took a more existential turn, with humans appearing as support characters rather than leads, Sarah Jayne's Cats of Malta is more practical and leans on the community of people that dedicate a part of their lives to caring for the very many cats of the island country. And it features a mighty beautiful poster, doesn't it?
There are supposedly about as many cats in Malta as there are in Istanbul, which is a crazy thing to think about, given that the Turkish metropole is thirty times larger in terms of population. Sarah Jayne's documentary focuses on the benefits, with colourful cats and colourful people filling the short runtime of her movie. Via a series of stories we get a sense of how pervasive felines are throughout the Maltese islands. People sing their odes to the joys of experiencing cats and how it enriches both their lives and the lives of others. From the neighbourhood cats, to cat shelters, to cat therapy and cat "idolatry", the movie canvasses the many expressions of love and care towards cats in Malta.
The cat generally appears as a warrior, with attitude and scars, a tribute to both territoriality and human expansion. As Malta is a major hub of real-estate development (the country has gone from 390k to 510k population in the last twenty years), it endangers the habitat of the little furballs and while the matter is not specifically tackled, there's little sense that any measures are taken to ensure a smooth and safe urban transfiguration.
Instead, there is a reliance on the willingness of people to take care of these cats, from feeding to sterilization and sometimes housing. It's a relationship that both brings people together, but also generates discord, with some less than grateful for what they perceive to be an "infestation". The film itself pleads for more action from authorities, support for NGOs and sterilization programs.
Beyond the practicalities of it, there is a lot of warmth to Cats of Malta, which makes it worth a watch. It is not as accomplished as Kedi and doesn't have the same ethereal quality, but should provide a purr's worth of satisfaction to cat lovers all around.
In terms of structure and content, the movie is fairly similar to what you've (probably) seen in Kedi. But whereas Ceyda Torun's film took a more existential turn, with humans appearing as support characters rather than leads, Sarah Jayne's Cats of Malta is more practical and leans on the community of people that dedicate a part of their lives to caring for the very many cats of the island country. And it features a mighty beautiful poster, doesn't it?
There are supposedly about as many cats in Malta as there are in Istanbul, which is a crazy thing to think about, given that the Turkish metropole is thirty times larger in terms of population. Sarah Jayne's documentary focuses on the benefits, with colourful cats and colourful people filling the short runtime of her movie. Via a series of stories we get a sense of how pervasive felines are throughout the Maltese islands. People sing their odes to the joys of experiencing cats and how it enriches both their lives and the lives of others. From the neighbourhood cats, to cat shelters, to cat therapy and cat "idolatry", the movie canvasses the many expressions of love and care towards cats in Malta.
The cat generally appears as a warrior, with attitude and scars, a tribute to both territoriality and human expansion. As Malta is a major hub of real-estate development (the country has gone from 390k to 510k population in the last twenty years), it endangers the habitat of the little furballs and while the matter is not specifically tackled, there's little sense that any measures are taken to ensure a smooth and safe urban transfiguration.
Instead, there is a reliance on the willingness of people to take care of these cats, from feeding to sterilization and sometimes housing. It's a relationship that both brings people together, but also generates discord, with some less than grateful for what they perceive to be an "infestation". The film itself pleads for more action from authorities, support for NGOs and sterilization programs.
Beyond the practicalities of it, there is a lot of warmth to Cats of Malta, which makes it worth a watch. It is not as accomplished as Kedi and doesn't have the same ethereal quality, but should provide a purr's worth of satisfaction to cat lovers all around.
