The snow and cold of the past few weeks had exhausted me.

I was planning a virtual Mardi Gras party for Tuesday the 16th and had busied myself with the tasks of hosting such a gathering. Between locating my purple and gold beads, making jambalaya, and sending out emails with zoom details, this project energized me and wore me out as well.

On Valentine’s Day, not expecting any special someone to treat me to a surf ’n turf dinner or flowers, I was ready to bask in a little self-love; a night spent wearing soft and loose fitting clothes, sipping a Syrah, and enjoying a movie on my comfy couch.

Not normally a romcom (romantic comedy) aficionado, on this night, the genre seemed perfect. Having remembered seeing that the movie, The American President, was a free option on one of my streaming services, I opted in. I remembered seeing it years ago and liking it, but I could not have predicted its effect on me this time around.

I was charmed. The romance actually involved people over thirty-five. The script was grown-up too, and, while maybe not overpowering chemistry, the connection between Michael Douglas’s and Annette Bening’s characters was believable. I watched the movie three times during the week.

Most romantic comedies follow certain formulas. There is usually an unlikely pairing. Maybe unsupportive friends, or personal histories, or quirky circumstances make it hard for them to get together, but their attraction blossoms into affection and grows into love. And you end up rooting for the relationship to beat the odds.

In The American President, a widower occupies the White House. He’s progressive politically but also pragmatic. He has a young daughter and loyal staff who remember what he was like before he moved to DC. He also has political enemies. One, in particular, is looking to attack him on the basis of character which he couldn’t do during the last election cycle because the president commanded the country’s sympathies for having just lost his wife.

Enter a bright, attractive woman, a professional lobbyist. They meet while she is trying to promote environmental causes, which he endorses in theory but shies away from championing totally for the sake of his re-election goal.

While genuinely smitten, both think they could use the other for their personal career objectives. They come to realize that their relationship means more than any single bit of legislation.

The story is engaging. The leads and supporting cast are wonderful, and the filmmaking is top notch.

I loved the cinematic interplay between the grand backdrop of DC, the life of POTUS as commander-in-chief, and the intimate scenes of the president, as a man, trying to navigate uncharted territory.

I loved the clever repartee.  Whether in a script or in real life, I love the disarming way someone’s comments can be both wryly funny and deeply truthful. During a state dinner, their “first date,” Annette Bening and Michael Douglas go for a spin on the dance floor.

She asks him how he manages to “do this,” referring to living under constant scrutiny. He chooses to respond to their dancing. “Arthur Murray. Six lessons.”

I love the way, the characters choose to work on their problems. In a wider sense, a message of this movie puts this relationship challenge in a larger context. (Ah, how I miss the TV show, The West Wing.)

The movie gives a shout-out to democracy, which, like a personal partnership, requires honesty and effort. Moving this country forward is messy, but it’s such a worthwhile endeavor.

Towards the end of the film, the president gives an unscripted news conference, pointing out the dangerous rhetoric of his rival’s political strategy and character attacks.

He points out that his presumptive opponent for re-election is not interested in solving real problems. He is only interested in attacking people who have different views and finding someone else to blame for problems. The movie was made in 1995, but this issue is so relevant today.

So, I had a romcom week which led me to contemplate love outside of heart-shaped boxes of chocolates.

Loving a person, loving one’s country, loving film, loving engaging banter — there are many things to love.  Many kinds of love.

Recognizing any kind of love is no small thing.