The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

(Herald rating: * * * *)

In the early minutes of this unassuming and utterly charming documentary, a passerby pauses and checks out the scene being filmed: a bearded, ponytailed fiftysomething is feeding colourful tropical parrots in a stand of trees in the San Francisco district of North Beach. The passerby soon works out that this man, who apparently has not trained the parrots, isn't worth his attention and he harrumphs off.

Director Irving might have edited out the intrusion, but including it in the final cut underlines how this is a slight story of the kind that runs beneath the radar of the busy city dweller.

From unprepossessing material Irving has woven something very special. The parrots are almost all that exist in the life of the main character, Mark Bittner, a sage and sad-eyed loner who lives rent-free in a garden cottage belonging to some rich folks on the hill of the title.

He came to the city 30 years ago with dreams of rock stardom and there are only hints of how his life has gone mostly downhill. Now he's a gentle eccentric who has befriended the noisy flock of several dozen conure parakeets that live in the neighbourhood.

As we hear him talk about the birds - sure, he anthropomorphises them, though never unconsciously - and watch him care for them, his story emerges. So do theirs.

Each bird, once named, assumes a radiant individuality - and we learn interesting facts, such as their ways of avoiding the hawks that are their main predators.

The way the story unfolds makes it an elegy for the kind of city that development destroys - blokes like that impatient passerby would approve, as it looks like Mark's life is about to be upended. But Irving has a fine surprise and a sweet happy ending in mind that will leave you smiling for days.

DIRECTOR: Judy Irving
RUNNING TIME: 83 minutes
RATING: PG
SCREENING: Lido, Bridgeway from Thursday