If the internet has taught us anything, it’s that we are a species obsessed with whiskers. From TikTok zoomies to Instagram toe-beans, feline content is the undisputed king of the digital jungle. But every so often, a piece of media comes along that trades the 15-second viral clip for something with a bit more… soul.
Enter Cats of Malta, a documentary that is less about “clout” and more about the “claws” (and the hearts) of the Mediterranean. Directed by Sarah Jayne, this film is a vibrant, sun-soaked love letter to the street cats of the Maltese archipelago and the eccentric, golden-hearted humans who treat them like royalty.
The “Kedi” of the Mediterranean?
For those who remember the 2016 masterpiece Kedi, which turned Istanbul’s street cats into international film stars Cats of Malta follows a similar, whisker-thin trail. However, it swaps the bustling Turkish spice bazaars for the honey-coloured limestone of Valletta and the salt-sprayed promenades of Sliema.
The film isn’t just a slideshow of cute faces; it’s a cinematic journey through the narrow, winding vicoli (alleys) where history and fur collide. With a soothing narrative voiceover that feels like a warm hug, the documentary introduces us to the territorial “bosses” of the island, cats who have more claim to these ancient streets than the tourists snapping selfies.
Meet the Guardians: Malta’s Feline Social Workers
What truly elevates this film from “cute” to “compelling” is its focus on the human-animal bond. We meet the local legends who have made it their life’s mission to ensure no bowl goes empty.
- The Miniature Cat Village: One of the most visually delightful segments features a colorful sanctuary nestled right against a historic wall built by the Knights of St. John. It’s a surreal, whimsical sight: ancient military architecture meeting bright plastic shelters and handmade cat-beds.
- The Unsung Heroes: We are introduced to people like English-Maltese actor Polly March and the effortlessly funny 13-year-old Isaac Muscat. These aren’t just “cat people”; they are the boots-on-the-ground protectors.
The stories aren’t always sunshine and rainbows. The film touches on the grit of street life, including a heartbreaking account of a tomcat losing a leg to a cruel passerby. But for every moment of sadness, there is a moment of triumph, specifically the vital work of TNR (Trap-Neuter-Return), which the film highlights as the unsung backbone of island conservation.
More Than Just a Purr: The Science of Stress
Why do these people spend their retirement funds and spare time on strays? The documentary discusses the therapeutic nature of the feline. Many of the caretakers describe how their heart rates drop and their stress melts away the moment a cat begins to purr.
It turns out that the frequency of a cat’s purr (between 25 and 150 Hertz) can actually assist in human physical healing and bone density. In Malta, where life can be as hectic as the local traffic, these street cats act as a collective, island-wide therapy squad.
The Verdict: Is it All “Purr-fection”?
If we’re being honest, the film occasionally leans into the “preachy” side of things, trying a little too hard to convert the non-believers. At times, the narrative arc wanders like a lost kitten, leaving hardcore documentary buffs wishing for a slightly tighter structure.
However, these are minor gripes. The film is packed with personality—look out for the scene-stealing cat in a carrier who lets out an obvious, very grumpy “No! No!” meow. It’s moments like these that remind us why we share our lives (and our islands) with these stubborn, beautiful creatures.
Why You Should Watch
Cats of Malta is a visual vacation. It captures the limestone glow of the Maltese islands and the resilience of a community that refuses to look the other way when a living thing is in need.
Whether you’re a lifelong feline fanatic or someone who just appreciates a good “underdog” (or undercat) story, this film is a refreshing reminder that compassion is a universal language—even if that language mostly consists of meows.
