Jay Baruchel as Leon Bronstein is probably the most adorable thing to happen to the proletariat since Karl Marx’s two-toned facial hair. “The Trotsky” is a feel-good Canadian comedy (which, probably through the work of corporate fascists*, has been arbitrarily moved on and off of Netflix Instant for months, causing me to angst inappropriately and seethe over having missed watching it back in 2009) in which Baruchel plays a young man who believes he is the reincarnation of Leon Trotsky because of a shared birth name.

Here’s a little background from a former history minor:

Leon Trotsky was a Russian revolutionary and general badass who escaped several assassination attempts until he was finally struck down in the midst of the tireless struggle of defeating fascism in the form of dictator and bonafide a-hole Joseph Stalin (you might remember him from the second World War, where he exterminated more people than Hitler).

Leon strives to unionize his high school in the first step to leading a mirror of the life of the original Trotsky while wooing a woman nine years his senior into a fated relationship.

Baruchel is sweet and endearing, never coming off as arrogant or egotistical, even when he angrily exclaims at the congregation of would-be teenage protesters, “They think this is recess? This is supposed to be a fucking Revolution!” Leon’s family is complicated and show varying levels of support of his vision throughout the film, and his ragtag band of supporters end up pulling together the student population in spite of, or even encouraged by, their apathy and/or boredom with their school system. Who says a revolution can’t have a happy ending?

The movie is fun to watch and full of surprising lines, like Leon’s reaction upon meeting the raging, uptight lunatic Dwight, his most staunch opponent: “Are you my Stalin, Dwight?”

His speeches left me full of fervor for his cause and a hankering to call my friends to arms and revolutionize the nearest gas station or something.

The last scene shows Leon’s discovery of his version of Vladimir Lenin, the original Trotsky’s right-hand man, but held no hint of a possible sequel. The overwhelmingly positive reviews may tempt the producer and director, a father-son team, to take another swat at it, but I’d personally be satisfied with the film as it stands, big wind-blown Bolshevik hair and all.

Any accusations of fascism in this article are meant to be farcical, and if you take them seriously, you are probably a fascist.