It’s rare to find female characters behind more convincing mustaches than their male counterparts, but then again, it’s even more uncommon for a film to come along that defies classification. How else does one account for a subject as potentially lethal as the fall and rise to power of Canadian Prime Minister W.L. Mackenzie King (Dan Beirne) being transformed into visual perfection? Like being hit with a warm sock filled with splendor, writer-director Matthew Rankin’s debut feature portrays real life as a kaleidoscopic, fantasy-filled ride through Canadian history. (Imagine how much more colorful and commanding high school history classes would have been had our teachers shared imaginations similar to that of Rankin.) The lightbox composition at once calls to mind such seemingly diverse temperaments as Powell and Pressburger and David Lynch. Two complaints, starting with Rankin’s maddeningly maddened ripoff of fellow Canadian Guy Maddin. Both appeal to one’s primitive instincts with their uncanny ability to fictionalize in historical context, but Maddin’s fingerprints are all over his. And even this indefatigable connoisseur of bodily functions humor inside me was more than a bit rankled over the profusion of sudorific giggles, most notably the ejaculating cactus. Don’t let that dissuade you. The third act drags, but nothing we’ve seen this year can match this