Review of The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill (2003) by V H — 04 Apr 2005

This is a documentary about a middle-aged, pony-tailed, former hippie named Mark Bittner who tends to a flock of wild parrots in San Francisco. Parrots aren't native to North America and how the founding parrots got there in the first place is anybody's guess. But since the San Francisco winters are relatively mild, the original colony of parrot settlers has been able to not only just survive, but to breed and increase the size of the flock from just a few birds to almost 45 members.

Bittner isn't any sort of bird expert. He moved to San Francisco in the 70's with dreams of making it as a musician, but that never worked out for him. He hasn't held a real job in almost 30 years and seems to survive mostly by sponging off generous friends. He lives for free, with the owners' permission, in a ramshackle little coach house on Telegraph Hill. He had no real direction in life until one day several years ago when he looked up to discover a small flock of parrots feeding in the trees by his terrace. Fascinated, he began studying the birds, and over the course of several months, he was able to get the birds to be comfortable enough with his presence that they'd take seeds from his fingers. As time passed, he was able to tell one bird from the other based on their distinguishing features and mannerisms. He started giving them names and bringing the sick and injured birds into his house to nurse them back to health. Eventually, taking care of the parrots became his full-time, albeit unpaid, job.

I'm not really a bird lover. I'm not a bird hater either. I'm more of a bird ignorer. I never really thought of birds as having distinct personalities or being animals that you could love or care about. (Like dogs, for instance.) But watching Bittner with his little bird friends convinced me otherwise. Although the parrots he watches over are wild birds, I think that once he gave them names he started to view them differently. For me, naming something causes almost instant anthropomorphism.

Once I was goofing around with some friends at an old job and for some reason I wound up naming one of the gummy bears I was eating [font=Times New Roman]?[/font] a yellow gummy bear, as I recall. Knowing me, the name was probably something stupid and obvious like "Gummio", but I can't really remember. What I do remember is that once named, Gummio made the immediate transformation from candy to pet. This meant I could no longer eat him (yes "him"; all gummy bears are male) and I certainly couldn't throw him away. So I went with the only solution I could think of: I moistened his gummy little back and stuck him to the corner of my computer monitor. From then on, every day when I came to work I anxiously checked to see if Gummio had survived the night or if an overzealous cleaning lady had Windexed away my lemony little friend. He actually stuck around (har!) for quite a while [font=Times New Roman]?[/font] months as I recall [font=Times New Roman]?[/font] before moving on to that big candy store in the sky. (Sniff.).

So, yeah, I can totally relate to Bittner and his birds. All but one of the parrots are of a species commonly known as the cherry-headed conure. The other one, named Conner, is the lone blue-crowned conure in the flock and clearly Bittner's favorite. Bittner sees Connor as a curmudgeonly old loner of a bird with no friends and no mate. No prospects either; he's the only one of his species in the entire city. Bittner is mate-less also, though San Francisco seems to be teeming with aging female ex-hippies. Bittner reveals that the reason his hair is halfway down his back is that he once made a vow not to cut it until he has a girlfriend. Youch.

Bittner also introduces us to Mingus, a crazy bird who attacks his feet and bops his little red head up and down whenever he (Bittner, not Mingus) plays the guitar; Tupelo, a sick old bird whose eventual death breaks Bittner's heart; and a bird couple named Sophie and Picasso that Bittner believes are very much in love.

I really liked this movie. I loved eccentric old Bittner, I loved the birds, and mostly, I loved how much Bittner loves the birds. It doesn't matter to me whether the little personalities he attributes to them are real or just whimsical humanizations; I still found them to be utterly charming. I'll admit, I'm a sucker for animal movies, but I think this film is good enough to appeal to almost everyone. Even those who don't form sentimental attachments to little yellow gummy bears.