In this docudrama, director Micheal Kearns recounts a handful of events that took place at his childhood home – 444 21st St., in Brandon, Man. – in the 1950s.

His demeanor is equal parts proud and wishful as he takes the viewer through the neighbourhood he once called home.

Beautiful prairie scenes occupy the first moments of Four Forty Four, reminiscent of the cosmic sequences in Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life.

As simplistic visually as it is stimulating, the cinematography holds images of overexposed wheat fields and blue summer skies while harmonious tunes tie this familiar tale together.

The largely sepia-toned images provoke a nostalgic feel, and the use of brief yet impassioned video clips of the present day aids in the telling of the monumental experiences that occurred.

Shown with an intriguing blend of recently made video clips and photos, Kearns fleshes out these seemingly tall tales in a humble yet powerful manner. The viewer is treated to infamous lectures from his mother, tales of neighbourhood tattlers, gutterboat races, hotdog roasts, kick-the-can competitions and other simple childhood pleasures, invoking the feeling that it is, indeed, the little things that matter.

There is something about Kearns’s voice that is incredibly captivating.

Perhaps it’s a combination of the pride that he feels and his descriptive language when spinning these yarns. The words are true – truer than anyone might want to admit. Words about the shortness of childhood and, on a bigger scale, life.

Those who enjoy a good campfire tale from their grandparents will surely enjoy Four Forty Four. If The Notebook, with its dramatic flashbacks and Canadians gone Hollywood is what you crave in entertainment, then you’d best stick to the multiplex.

However, if you’re into a more blunt, homegrown and down-to-earth memoir, then this flick has just what you need.

Published in Volume 66, Number 3 of The Uniter (September 15, 2011)