Primary navigation

USA 1998
Reviewed by Charlotte O'Sullivan
Our synopses give away the plot in full, including surprise twists.
New Yorkers Joe and Kathleen enjoy a clandestine e-mail relationship. He is heir to Fox & Sons, a company with a chain of discount bookstores; she owns a tiny bookshop, threatened by his new store. But since they use pen names, neither knows the other's real identity. Joe and Kathleen are introduced at a publishing party. Joe's aggression overwhelms Kathleen. Via e-mail, Kathleen confides in Joe about the ruthless capitalist in her life, while he willingly gives advice. Employing the skills of her journalist boyfriend Frank, Kathleen begins a canny media campaign against Fox.
Increasingly enamoured of each other, the e-mail pair decide to meet. When Joe spies Kathleen at the pre-arranged restaurant he realises the truth. He approaches her anyway, but as Joe Fox. Kathleen insults him and goes home, thinking she's been stood up. Kathleen's shop is forced to close and at the same time she realises she doesn't love Frank. Joe undergoes a similar revelation and leaves his ambitious book-editor fiancée Patricia. Still keeping his e-mail identity secret, as himself he woos Kathleen, who is now writing a book. She grows to enjoy his company but when her e-mail pal asks to see her, she agrees. When Joe arrives, Kathleen realises the truth. The pair declare their love.
You've Got Mail is neither a sequel nor prequel to Sleepless in Seattle, yet the two films appear unnaturally close. In both, Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks take the lead roles, the well-articulated sentence proves central to the romance, and sexual difference is expressed through cinema. (The Godfather substitutes for The Dirty Dozen as the perfect 'male' film this time.) The two films have something even more crucial in common, however: an obsession with perfect, dead women. Sleepless in Seattle, it could be argued, is about Virginia Woolf's old enemy, "the angel in the house", embodied by Hanks' ideal first wife Maggie. "She made everything beautiful... When I touched her it was like coming home, though to no home I'd ever known," he says of her. Their son is terrified he's "forgetting Mommy", so Hanks lists her qualities to keep the memory fresh. When her ghost appears, it's in a white dress.
You've Got Mail is slightly more original - this time it's the angel in the workplace with whom we're confronted, in the form of Kathleen's soft-focus old mother. Her ghost also pops up, full of tender and supportive grace. And she too is a feminine ideal, both sexually desirable (Joe's uncle Schuyler keeps saying how "enchanting" she was) and virtuous. She was always kind and fair to her employees, as well as a surrogate mother to her customers and their young children. Like Maggie, Kathleen's mother turns everywhere into a home - the female realm, which the realities of a brutal, competitive world can't reach.
What director and co-writer Nora Ephron makes apparent is how closely such a vision accords with a certain strand of feminism. Kathleen angrily tells "sad multi-millionaire" Joe, "No one will ever remember you, but they'll remember my mother." Kathleen's shop has been passed on to her by her mother and Kathleen intends to honour this tradition, declaring, "I'll leave [the shop] to my daughter," which makes her sound like a radical separatist.
But just as Sleepless in Seattle worked to free Hanks of his first wife's ghost and to allow him to love a career girl, You've Got Mail's aim is to drag Kathleen away from her mother and into the "male" marketplace. This is where Joe comes in. Ruthless in business, he can show Kathleen how to be "cruel", how to accept the push and shove of business. That this presents a direct threat to her mother's values is made clear. When Kathleen realises that Joe has won, she wails, "It's like my mother died all over again." For Ephron, it's not enough for saintly people to be dead - their ghosts have to be killed off, too. Only then can sinners flourish: Joe never renounces his daddy's business, while Kathleen's happy ending involves her accepting the services of a successful publisher - one of Patricia's friends, and therefore undoubtedly pushy.
You've Got Mail owes much to other films. A loose reworking of Ernst Lubitsch's The Shop around the Corner (1940), it begins like a feminist version of You Can't Take It with You (1938), Frank Capra's sprightly take on thoughtless businessmen and their love of monopolies - but where the latter shows eccentric 'little guy' Lionel Barrymore successfully beating off the horrors, You've Got Mail says if you can't beat 'em, join 'em: a Working Girl for the 90s.
The problem is that Ephron doesn't have the courage of her capitalist convictions. In order to distract us from her project, she does everything in her power to make Kathleen seem unthreatening, such as giving her a 'terrible cold' and making her increasingly witless (her ability not to put two and two together is awesome). But there's a more profound betrayal at work here. The quality of the writing is such that you actually don't believe Kathleen loves Joe. His wooing of her is rushed and his banter doesn't seem particularly charming (Hanks, always better playing good guys, looks uncomfortable here). And Kathleen herself becomes such a blank you begin to wonder if she isn't in a comatose state of denial.
You've Got Mail has much in common with Sleepless in Seattle but ultimately pales by comparison. The latter's brand of corn was slick and self-conscious; You've Got Mail's is merely confused. Ephron's second attempt to reject the angelic female sphere proves too much. The title punningly says it all - Ephron gives us male, more male than she can handle.