Relationship Spotlight: Adan & Laila (A Stray)

If I recall correctly, the only other Relationship Spotlight I’ve done on a human-animal duo was Friendless and Brown Eyes from Go West.  I’ve gotta figure that, once I’ve done “a boy and his cow,” it’s only logical to circle back and do “a boy and his dog.”  Of course, in this case, we don’t see the “man’s best friend” dynamic at work in the typical way (some spoilers.)

Right from the start, Adan wants nothing to do with the dog that will eventually come to be known as Laila.  Not that he means her any harm – it’s a complete accident that he runs into her with his car, but if it weren’t the passing pedestrian who sees what happened urging him to do his Christian duty (figuratively speaking,) it’s hard to say what he would have done.  Would he still have taken her to the vet and then wound up getting stuck with her?  As it is, he at first argues to the pedestrian, “I’m not touching that!” and even as he begrudgingly acquiesces to helping Laila, he makes good on his initial claim:  he throws a spare shirt over her so he can retrieve her from beneath the car without touching her with his bare skin.

Because of dogs being unclean in Somali culture, this use of makeshift “barriers” whenever Adan has to touch Laila is a recurring theme.  He uses the shirt a lot, either specifically to pick her up or try and hide her when he doesn’t want someone to know he has a dog with him.  He also takes to carrying her around in a small duffel bag with only her head poking out, and even then, he has words with her when he thinks her head is too close to him, twisting the duffel bag around and exhorting her to “face that way!”  Eventually, he gets a leash for her and lets her run around at a dog park, but he freaks when he sits down on the grass to rest and she comes running up to him.

Laila, of course, is blissfully devoted to Adan.  No matter how clearly he conveys his alternating digust, wariness, and alarm, she adores him.  When he tries to drop her off somewhere, she trots after him until he gives in, and she deploys her puppy eyes with ruthless efficiency.  It’s such a great depiction of unconditional dog love, and it’s really sweet to see her gradually wear down his defenses.

But the operative word here is “gradual.”  Adan goes through a lot on Laila’s behalf and every fed-up “I’m done!” moment always ends with him taking her back, but that doesn’t mean it’s all sunshine and roses.  This might sound really awful, but I love that he continues to bag on her even as he finds himself caring for her, very tentatively starting to play with her, and even naming her.  In a casual, offhand tone, he keeps up a running commentary reminding her that she’s ugly, has no brain, and is completely useless as a pet.  It’s something about that curmudgeon/softie dichotomy, because although he does take care of her and gets his life turned completely upside down on her behalf, it’s not because she’s won him over, not entirely.  Maybe it’s Adan clinging to his last vestiges of distance, putting her down to remind himself that he doesn’t like dogs.  It’s also worth noting that, while his words aren’t nice, his tone is fine.  He’s conversational, talking to her like a person even as he complains that dogs are stupid and have no language, and she doesn’t hear anything amiss in the sound of his voice.  I don’t know, but for whatever reason, it’s weirdly charming to me.

Further Thoughts on A Stray

The major theme of A Stray may seem at first a bit on-the-nose.  At an initial glance, it might feel like, “Yeah, both the Muslim refugee and the dog are ‘strays’ – we get it!”  And it is an obvious parallel, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a good or valid one.  This idea comes through really well throughout the film, always evident but never heavyhanded (a few spoilers.)

By the time circumstance (or God?) throws them together, Adan and the dog have both already experienced being unwanted or cast out from where they were.  We don’t know much about the dog’s story before she meets Adan, other than the fact that she’s without a home.  When Adan clips her with his car and has to bring her to the vet, he’s advised to bring her to a shelter – in other words, she has no tags to indicate an owner, meaning she’s probably not a recent runaway with loved ones searching for her.  Due to her easy attachment to Adan, we can probably also guess that, while she’s no doubt had it rough, she probably hasn’t suffered abuse or anything that would cause trauma and distrust.  Like Adan, she’s looking for a roof over her head and food in her belly.

Adan, meanwhile, has been passed over several times by this point.  He isn’t particularly welcome in Minneapolis by the city at large (the film doesn’t cover a ton of Islamaphobia or anti-Somali sentiment, but it’s there and does inform the story.)  He’s in a strange place where he and his fellow refugees have tried to carve out something resembling a familiar home for themselves, but he’s struggled to belong there as well.  He moved in with his friends after getting into trouble and being turned out of his mother’s apartment, and after getting into a fight with them, there’s no recourse left for him in his private circle.  Tentatively, he reaches out to the greater Somali community and starts to scrape together a new situation for himself.

Since this new situation involves a job and a place to sleep, Adan is at least somewhat better off than the dog when he first runs into her.  However, becausehe finds himself temporarily stuck with her, all that newfound security starts to erode.  He can’t work at a Somali restaurant if he tries to bring an unclean animal into the building, and he certainly can’t sleep in the mosque.  He and the dog are left to fend for themselves as an uneasy duo – well, Adan is uneasy.  The dog is perfectly happy to be with him, which unsettles Adan even more.  For her part, the dog’s situation becomes marginally safer as Adan’s becomes less so on account of her, because even though she’s still homeless, she has a human looking out for her and giving her what food he can.

Although a homeless dog and a homeless refugee obviously have very different factors contributing to their circumstances, it’s interesting to view their interactions as one marginalized “being” encountering another.  We have Adan’s instant reaction of disgust and fear, not wanting anything to do with the dog, regardless of the fact that he knows what it’s like to be without a home.  We then see him begrudgingly starting to help her despite himself, and no one around him recognizes the compassionate thing he’s doing.  Instead they turn on him, pushing him and the dog away with equal force.  No two ways about it – deciding to help the dog wreaks major havoc on Adan’s life.  And ultimately, we see him reaching out with more than just his actions.  He reaches out with his heart as well, which starts to make even the uncertainty of their situation feel a little bit okay.

A Stray (2016)

Unfortunately, I can’t send you out to see A Stray, since it doesn’t have a distributor yet (I had the good luck to see it at a film festival,) but I wanted to talk about it anyway.  It’s shot in my old stomping grounds, Minnesota’s Twin Cities, and it’s steeped in the culture of the Somali community there, and though I’m no longer in the Cities, I still live somewhere with a large Somali community and see that culture daily.  This familiarity made it extra-enjoyable for me, but it’s also a beautifully-made film with an intimate, engaging story and wonderful themes.

Adan, a young Somali refugee living in Minneapolis, is living at odds with himself.  He’s not currently welcome at home and has recently fallen out with his roommates; suddenly homeless, he takes shelter in the local mosque, where he discusses his troubles with the imam, his desire to be a good Muslim, and his struggle of continually sliding into temptation.  The imam is compassionate and offers help to Adan, but just as things start looking up, Adan’s life is turned upside-down when, driving, he has a run-in with a stray dog.  Although the dog isn’t hurt, there’s nowhere for her to go, and being saddled with her puts Adan through a lot of upheaval (for those who don’t know, dogs are considered unclean in Somali culture.)  Adan’s association with his unwanted new friend makes it hard for him to find anyone in his community to extend a hand to him, but he can’t bring himself to outright abandon the dog either.  So, he begrudgingly hauls her through the city in search of somewhere safe and welcoming for the both of them.

The Minnesotan in me adores all the gorgeous shots of Minneapolis, and I love the low-key, lived-in feel of depicting the neighborhood.  It’s not a hand-holding “This is what Somali community is like in Minnesota!” vibe in the least; rather, the film drops you into the culture, trusts that you can keep up, and just shows people living their lives.  The story takes its time but doesn’t drag (it reminded me a bit of Tom McCarthy’s work,) following Adan and his furry charge through a few days of their wanderings and his attempts to get on a good path.  The lovely cinematography and atmospheric music contribute to the film’s intimate feel, and the actors (mainly Minnesota actors without much film work, or in some cases non-actors – the imam is played by the actual imam of a Twin Cities mosque) all turn in good work.  Barkhad Abdiraham, who had a supporting role in Captain Phillips, plays Adan with subtlety, humor, and grace.

I love how Islam is presented, very respectfully/responsibly.  What’s more, religion is an organic part of the film that weaves deftly through the characters’ lives in assorted ways.  I’m not sure I’ve even seen religion handled so well in a movie – anyreligion, let alone Islam, which is among the worst-represented in Hollywood.  Adan loves God and wants to serve Him, but he feels out of touch and is worried that he can’t make the right choices.  Meanwhile, the imam is caring, devout, nonjudgmental, and pragmatic, all at once.  Other characters in the film express their faith in casual or overt ways.  Rather than using religion as a lazy shorthand to typify the characters, the film uses it to enrich them and make them feel like more complete people.

Warnings

Swearing, brief sexual references, a little drinking/smoking, and thematic elements.