There's an airy spirit of existential enquiry floating through Luit Bieringa's lovely portrait of Wellington art-dealer Peter McLeavey. A fundamental biographer's question - what makes this guy tick? - is quietly turned back on us by a subject who seems to live out a highly ordered daily existence in a state of perpetual curiosity about what makes any of us tick, himself included, in this corner of the world. Starting out as a dealer from his bedroom flat in 1966, McLeavey was already championing Toss Woollaston, Colin McCahon and Gordon Walters as purveyors of vision informed by New Zealand experience. He opened his two-room dealer gallery at 147 Cuba Street in 1968. Forty years and 500 or so exhibitions later he's still there. Cinematographer Leon Narbey follows the dapper man in a hat from his home in Hill Street on the circuitous scenic route he takes each morning to work. Bieringa intersperses this lyrical picture of McLeavey's Wellington with readings from his correspondence and frank, revealing conversations with the man himself.