A warm, sweet and remarkably charming film about two antagonistic workers in the same shop (James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan) who are carrying on a romance via mailbox without either of them knowing it. The key to this film's success is that Ernst Lubitsch keeps any syrupy sentimentality absent and calls on his actors to give low-key, unfussy performances. As a result, you fall in love with virtually all of them.
There's a strong undercurrent of melancholy running through this film which I appreciated. Loneliness is a major theme, most obviously represented in the character of the shop's owner and manager, played wonderfully by Frank Morgan. He discovers that he's being cuckolded by his wife, and realizes that the successful life he's created for himself isn't enough to keep him from feeling lonely when he doesn't have a partner to share it. This makes the timid romance between Stewart and Sullavan all the more poignant, because they're both reaching out to this unseen other, who each thinks of as a soulmate before they've even met. Of course we know everything will turn out right in the end, but the movie doesn't let you forget the dismal feeling either of them would feel if they found that the reality didn't live up to the fantasy.
Lubitsch fills his movie out with a crackerjack cast that has boatloads of chemistry. The little group of shop employees refers to itself throughout the movie as a little family, and that's exactly how it feels to us as well.
This is a wonderful, unsung romance.
Grade: A+

Should have been titled 'Balderdash!' Little in the film is true except the name of the island and the fact submarines were involved. Little more than training film quality with poor camera work, muddy stock footage and perhaps the low point of stereotyping 'Japs' with laughing Japanese infantry, laughing Japanese fighter pilots and one-dimensional square-jawed Americans dying left and right. Sixty years later it is unintentionally funny as an odd artifact and as an opportunity to see what is possible when the war fever is upon you. The plot and the dialogue remind me of playing guns on a summer's afternoon in my childhood, peering through the neighbor's hedge to gain a fatal advantage on my best friend Steve and my little brother. In actual fact, the Makin Island raid was a near total failure with Carlson and his men wandering around in the dark exchanging gunfire with shadows until finally, thirsty and completely disoriented, looking for someone to surrender to, before they happened upon some equally confused Japanese soldiers who promptly surrendered to them! In the withdrawal several of Carlson's Marines ended up on another island and were abandoned! The film, of course, couldn't tell that story, not in 1943, so this bit of whimsy was fabricated and rushed into release to the beating of drums. With Randolph Scott, and his jaw, as Colonel Thorwald (Carlson) leading a unit comprised almost entirely of stock caricatures, the green recruit (Harry Landon, Robert Mitchum), the grizzled veteran (J. Carroll Naish, Milburn Stone, Sam Levene), the country-bumpkin (Rod Cameron), the all-American boy (Alan Curtis), and scores of sneering (when they weren't laughing) 'Japs'. And yet the cast nearly overcomes the material. Almost. Randolph Scott's narrow range is well suited to his role of earnest commander and he is supported by a solid group of professionals who do their best with thin gruel. But in the end, the one-note object of the exercise wins. Any pretense is totally abandoned at the close when Randy Scott simply looks directly into the camera and delivers a stirring (well sorta stirring) call to arms. The cast was better than this material. So was the audience. Should be viewed with Reefer Madness and a bottle of moderately priced Merlot.