Viktor Kossakovsky tracked down everyone living in Saint Petersburg who was born in the area the same day he was, July 19, 1961. His inspired documentary, which combines thumbnail sketches that transcend character study, is as un-self-indulgent as its premise is narcissistic. Cutting back and forth between events in several peoples? lives that range from the highly privileged to the apparently inconsequential, Kossakovsky maintains a liberating sense of randomness, though the transitions are never jarring or empty. One man doesn?t say much except that he?s enjoying his melting ice cream cone, but he isn?t uncomfortably self-conscious. The filmmaker demonstrates a similar empathic rapport with everyone in this movie, including one woman who politely tells him to get lost.