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Movies that bang
by Jordan Hiller

The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill (2005)

It was only six months ago when I left my wife in a downtown San Francisco hotel room so she could rest (Amy was six months pregnant at the time), hopped on the trolley at Union Square and glided up to North Beach, all with a digital camera in hand and a single mission in mind – climb and conquer Telegraph Hill. The seduction of the City by The Bay is hard to describe because there simply is nothing like it. A city so rich in American history, mixing diverse cultures like an exotic finger-painting, and forever maintaining its childlike innocence, San Francisco has always been the destination for the revolutionary, the curious, and the young at heart. True, the eccentricities of the town can bewilder some, but for myself and the millions of…(I guess I’ll just call it like it is) freaks like me, San Fran just feels like the home planet you always imagined existed and would be waiting with open arms when you were ready to return.

As I climbed higher and higher along steep sidewalks toward the towering structure at the peak in order to gain a panoramic view of the city which would include such breathtaking landmarks as a glistening red Golden Gate Bridge and the bone-chilling Alcatraz Island, little did I know about Mark Bittner and his wild parrots.

Judy Irving’s simple yet cinematic documentary about a classic San Francisco character and his befriending (or adopting) a flock of supposedly wild parrots is just a window into a lonely gentleman’s life and the means with which lonely people attempt to fill holes. Mark Bittner is not a stupid man, nor is he off-putting or unsociable. He is very much like many of the free-spirited, highly intelligent characters you can see floating around in the universe – San Francisco simply has a larger concentration in the population for obvious hippie related reasons. Bittner came to San Francisco as a young man with a guitar and a hope to work “in music”, but like many of the dreamers drawn to the hometown of Jerry Garcia, Janice Joplin, and the beats, Bittner found himself cruising past middle age without ever having really held a job and the old existence kinda just sliding by unrealized.

Fortunately for Mark, Ms. Irving, and the audience of this film, he discovered the green feathered conures perched in a tree outside his door and developed deep and meaningful relationships with over a dozen birds. Maybe that sounds odd to you but, first of all, if you have a pet like I do you’ll understand, and second of all…this is San Francisco. Beyond a description by Bittner of each of his parrot children (he knows each by name) and how the birds behave and all have unique personalities, the film does not pursue much of a story. Toward the very end of the documentary some drama arises when Mark is forced to leave the apartment he has been squatting in (with the permission of its owners) over the past three years because they intend to renovate. This causes an upheaval in the community and apparently around the world because no one wants to see this cult icon separated from the parrots. Can the already fragile bunch raised outside of their native environment survive without him?

If that is not enough of a compelling setup for you then the point has been lost. Wild Parrots is not showy or revealing or exploitive. Its intentions are undemanding and its style sweet and airy (plus a humbly framed ending that plasters a smile to your face and draws a tear from your eye).

When I reached the top of Coit Tower atop Telegraph Hill and looked out I knew immediately that my camera could never do the scene justice but I clicked away anyhow. I didn’t see any parrots flapping their wings in the ever cloudy bay area skies, but I did see all of San Francisco and I knew there were millions of people and their stories below me spreading to the water on both sides. I couldn’t guess what they were but this being San Francisco, one could assume many involved lost souls and hopeful hearts. Mark Bittner is one of those stories and as told by Judy Irving it is well worth listening.