Just like with his mentor and contemporary, Fred Rogers, there are no dark secrets to Ernest Coombs' earnest belief in giving children the space to be gentle and creative. Even with relatively little "drama" throughout the life of the man called Mr. Dressup, it's still profoundly moving to see him put in the work to make the world a kinder place. Director Robert McCallum keeps this documentary exactly as straightforward as it needs to be, moving through Coombs's life with total reverence but plenty of modesty—making sure not to inflate the idea of Mr. Dressup into something Coombs himself would have disagreed with.

In its act of honoring this person with an everyman personality and a trunk full of quaint costumes, the film also serves as a tribute to low budget educational television. Working within a very small studio, with simple puppets and no strict script to follow, Coombs and his friends found any way possible to stick to their original idea of teaching very young kids that being kind and communicating one's feelings clearly were the best things one could achieve. Behind Mr. Dressup's softness is a remarkable work ethic, a deep respect for children, and a commitment to thoughtful, universal values.

The first hour of the film is perfectly pleasant, easy viewing—perhaps to the point that those who didn't grow up with Mr. Dressup might feel a little detached from his story. But the final half-hour manages to be somehow both devastating and unbelievably moving, as the last decade of Coombs's life forces him to face inevitable, sometimes tragic challenges. And he approaches them with love in his heart all the same. To call a movie a tearjerker might sound reductive, but in some cases there's really no way around it: there's something truly healing about the amount of gratitude and care expressed by Coombs and the countless people he's inspired.