Question: Is a sitting President of the United States -- who is a widower and also the father of a 12-year-old daughter -- "allowed" to fall in love? Can he enter into a close relationship with someone, away from the responsibilities of his job? Would the American public accept his ability to have a girlfriend? Or would such a development become a nightmare for him: either personally, or politically, or both?

President Andrew Shepherd (Michael Douglas) finds himself in this quandary. He lost his wife Mary to cancer, before he took office. Now he is raising his daughter Lucy (Shawna Waldron) on his own, in his first term in the White House. But he has just met Sydney Ellen Wade (Annette Bening), a professional political strategist who represents an environmental organization called the Global Defense Group. He finds her interesting, and he'd like to ask her "out," to a state dinner. Can he do this? Should he do this? And if so, how should he do this?

In the meantime, Sydney has just moved to Washington to work for the GDC. She is a bit unnerved at first by President Shepherd's interest. Sydney has the support of her sister Beth (Nina Siemaszko), and some half-hearted support from her co-workers at the GDC. You'll recognize her boss Leo Solomon (John Mahoney), as well as colleagues Susan Sloan (Wendie Malick) and David (Joshua Malina). But can a lobbyist be in a relationship with the President without jeopardizing the mission of her work? It's all very confusing.

President Shepherd is a Democrat. He's an expert in American history and politics. He seems to care about others, in general. And in return, he is quite popular with the American people, too. Of course, he is constantly busy and is continually surrounded by bustling senior staff members. Janie Basdin (Samantha Mathis) is his personal secretary. His long-time best friend is also his Chief of Staff, A.J. MacInerney (Martin Sheen). Lewis Rothschild (Michael J. Fox) serves as his senior domestic policy advisor and speech writer. Leon Kodak (David Paymer) is a numbers-cruncher. Robin McCall (Anna Deavere Smith) is the press secretary. All have varying ideas about how to handle what they begin to call "the Sydney issue." The president would rather focus on two key pieces of legislation: a crime bill and a fossil fuel package; he'd like to resolve both as he moves into the final year of his term, when he will be running for reelection.

His main competition in that run is Republican Senator Bob Rumson (Richard Dreyfuss), the Senate Minority Leader from Kansas. Rumson is already out on the campaign trail, touting his slogan, "The Pride is Back!" He too finds "the Sydney issue" interesting, and he spins it to his own advantage with his conservative backers. What will happen next, on this front?

As I write this review in 2020, this film is now 25 years old. In some ways, it profiles how we used to see the operation of federal politics. Our views have changed dramatically since November 2016. This story marks a tamer time, perhaps even a more dignified time, before political attacks via social media outlets became commonplace, and before the news of personal "entanglements" became regular news. Viewers may find themselves watching and growing wistful for these older, somewhat simpler days. (Which were not so very long ago.)

This film was also released well before The West Wing series was created for television, and before Martin Sheen became a prime-time President himself (1999-2006). Both the film and the first four years' worth of the TV series were written by Aaron Sorkin. His script here is peppered with memorable concepts, truths and turns of phrase. "Politics is perception," says Leo Solomon, and suddenly, you realize the truth of this statement. "A proportional response" is what the president may be asked to issue in a difficult situation. Well, now you'll understand what this means. "People want leadership," insists Lewis Rothschild. And Andrew Shepherd himself says, "Being president of this country is entirely about character." Well, now that he mentions it, yes, it is.

Sorkin keeps the best for last, with Shepherd's chilling do-not-miss speech defining democracy. The opening statements are: "America isn't easy. America is advanced citizenship." Although the country was not quite as definitively divided a generation ago as it is now, this speech is remarkably insightful and critically applicable to our situation today. Better words could not be spoken, by a politician, or even by a screenwriter. Then or now.

Watching The American President may provide a nice respite from the barrage of political banter that we are subjected to ad infinitum, these days. The romantic storyline is an interesting one to consider, too. As for the political maneuvering itself: Yes, there are differences between now and then. Yes, there are similarities, too. I believe that in the end, though, what this presentation leaves us with is a fair amount of hope. I welcome it.