Dave, a romantic political comedy released in 1993, feels like it could almost be the ur-text for a decade’s worth of mainstream Hollywood movies. It is not, of course, with numerous fore-runners and precedents, but there is something in the way it combines its story, tone, cast, and music that feels particularly representative of 1990s American cinema. Released in the 1980s and it would have to be more simplistic. Released in the 2000s and it would need to be more cynical.

Kevin Kline plays the titular Dave Kovic, who runs a temporary employment agency in Washington DC. On the side he performs as an impersonator of American President Bill Mitchell (Kline again) for store openings and county fairs. When the real Mitchell is incapacitated by a stroke, White House Chief of Staff Bob Alexander (Frank Langella) arranges for Dave to stand in as a lookalike – without the knowledge of the President’s disaffected wife Ellen (Sigourney Weaver).

To a large degree Dave resembles a typical studio-produced comedy, with a high story concept and a populist tone and style. It is deliberately and emphatically earnest and upbeat, employing a similar tone of a classic Frank Capra drama – effectively Mr Smith Goes to Washington for the 1990s. A wide array of real-life politicians and Washington professionals make cameos that help build a much more inspirational and optimistic picture of American politics than was taking place at the time – and of course now sits worlds away of the political experience of the 2020s.

Ivan Reitman (Ghostbusters) directs the film solidly and with a strong sense of comic timing. The real achievements, however, are in screenplay and cast. Gary Ross (Big) writes a decent script in which characters are allowed to be smart and comparatively sophisticated. No individual character is made to be stupid or act foolish to make the story work. This is particularly true of Weaver’s Ellen Mitchell, who takes no time at all to see through Dave’s deception – for it to be otherwise would insult the character.

It is a film that is made by its cast, starting with Kevin Kline who has such a demonstrated gift for comedy. He is essentially faultless here in a double role, showing a superb knack for physicality, funny dialogue, and pitch-perfect glances and pauses. He is balanced well by Weaver, here given a rare opportunity to perform comedy – something she should have done much more often during her career than she has. Frank Langella is beautifully cast as the film’s villain, playing a part that benefits enormously from his general gravitas and malevolent stares. Kevin Dunn – always a net benefit to any film in which he appears – is excellent as the White House’s communications director, and the same can be said of Ving Rhames as Dave’s secret service bodyguard. The film also represents an early role for Laura Linney, albeit in a fairly minor and limited role.

Dave represents a solid and dependable blueprint for America’s mainstream studio cinema of its time. While it has of course aged – what text doesn’t? – and its attitude to politics and statecraft feel almost perversely naïve today, the script, the performances, and its generally upbeat, charming attitude ensure it is still hugely watchable.