YOU'VE GOT VOICEMAIL

The Netflix Rom-Com Turning Everyone Into a Sobbing Mess

“Voicemails for Isabelle” is the streamer’s top movie and is emotionally destroying everyone who watches. What’s the deal?

For some reason, I thought a fun, lighthearted way to end my weekend was to watch the new “You’ve Got Mail, But With the Dead Sister” Netflix rom-com.

Roughly two hours later, my downstairs neighbor was at my door complaining about the leak coming through the floor, where my tears had puddled.

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Not since the infamous evening in high school when I, knowing nothing about the film, innocently agreed, “Sure, A Walk to Remember sounds great for movie night,” have I been so oblivious to what I was in for.

Voicemails for Isabelle surged to the top of Netflix’s Top 10 Movies list over the weekend and continues to hold that spot.

The film is quite nakedly inspired by the Nora Ephron classic romantic comedy You’ve Got Mail, starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, to the point that characters in the movie even joke about how similar the situation the star-crossed lovers are in is to the courtship between those digital pen pals. This time, instead of AOL platforming the secret correspondence, it’s, as the (admittedly cringe-y) title suggests, voicemails that are the gateway to swooning and—gasp!—secrets.

I wondered if maybe I was losing it a bit because of how emotional the film made me. Then I went online and saw how many other people were dehydrated emotional husks, recuperating on their tear-stained furniture. One of my friends posted an Instagram story announcing that she’s never cried harder in her life than when watching the film. When I opened my work email on Monday, I had received multiple pitches to interview so-called relationship experts about “why Voicemails for Isabelle is hitting women so hard.” (Um, rude! Not just women, experts!!!)

So basically, what I’m trying to ask myself is, what is the deal here? Why is this the movie that is destroying us all, the rom-com that has become so immediately popular? Or, to quote myself amid muffled sobs as the credits rolled: “Jesus Christ, what the hell?!?!”

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Kevin FallonEditor-at-Large, Obsessed

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