A Sweeping Tale of Family, The Sound of Music is a Film to Fall in Love With.

Rating: 9/10 (25 December 2018)

The Sound of Music, Bob Wise's adaptation of the Rogers and Hammerstein musical, is so beloved, and has been for so long, that it almost seems wrong to look at it with a critical eye. It's not so much a movie as it is a cultural monument. But forget the monumental money it grossed, or the Oscars it won. There's something about The Sound of Music that cuts through the critical divide. I love this movie. No, it's not that I simply think it is an exceptionally well-crafted piece of family entertainment. I do, but unlike almost any other film I've seen, The Sound of Music makes me feel something like real, genuine love. When Julie Andrews sings, my heart swoons.
Based loosely on the true story of the Von Trapps, and the stage musical that came from their remarkable exploits in Austria in the late 1930s, The Sound of Music is primarily a tale of family. For those few who haven't seen it, the story centers on the Von Trapp patriarch (Christopher Plummer), and Julie Andrews' nun-turned-governess Maria, as she teaches the family music, and brings life back into the Von Trapp home. The plot takes on a richly un-purposeful quality. Maria's connection with the Von Trapp children is the main thread through the picture, and it is given ample room to breathe and grow. Intimate as it is, the film's story of the Von Trapps' gradual shift from a strict and regimented household to a place of warmth and love, actually has something of an epic reach. At 3 hours long, including intermission, The Sound of Music is set against the rise of Nazi Germany. That length and historical reach, however, is not all that makes The Sound of Music feel epic.
The film benefits immensely from its locations. Salzburg is given the spotlight, and it is appropriately majestic. Framed against those famous Alps, the city is, pardon the clichÃ©, a character unto itself. The Sound of Music does one thing that seems so simple, and yet very few movies achieve. It creates a tangible sense of place from its opulent sets and exquisitely photographed exteriors. Simply looking nice is not enough to give the audience the type of experience Bob Wise's production does. This is a patient film, one that savors its spectacular settings, immersing rather than just showing.
And it is also patient with its characters, even more to its benefit. We are allowed to live with the Von Trapps, and really get to know the Von Trapp children, all well-cast and played. The familial relationships are built naturally over time. The meandering quality of the story is an asset. It's not a film where every scene counts, where every beat moves the story forward. It would be a lesser film if it was. Instead, The Sound of Music spends time with "meaningless" scenes. A frolic in the hills, impromptu musical numbers (The Lonely Goatherd puppet show is a totally unnecessary, but absolutely delightful interlude), and outings that convey only the remarkable charm of the actors and the splendid beauty of Austria. Part of the movie's success rests on our connection to these characters. Mercifully, nothing is rushed. These people make fabulous company, and the acting only makes our hearts grow fonder.
As stated before, the Von Trapp children are genuinely charming, never falling victim to the sugary artificiality that plagues many child actors. The supporting characters, including Eleanor Parker as The Baroness, strike the same note, colorful but not overbearing. Christopher Plummer is invaluable as the film's straight man. A rigid drill sergeant who gradually discovers love again, he provides the movie's most potent emotional beats. But I'm burying the lead. Julie Andrews is miraculous in the lead role. Maria is a more understated take on her Oscar-winning Mary Poppins, but Andrews is just as vivacious here. It's hard to play motherly, lovable, or fun. If you don't have a natural effervescence, the audience will reject it. Julie Andrews has it in every fiber of her being. Her performance is a tour de force. The film is about bringing life and love to a family that needs it. Andrews' performance does just that. She brings no less than life itself to the screen whenever she is on it. Along with her classically beautiful singing voice, Andrews' presence is uncommonly memorable. More so than perhaps any other movie character, I felt as if I myself had fallen in love with Maria. Julie Andrews is just that good.
All this is in service to the film's outstanding soundtrack. The songs are classics, we know them all by heart, even if we haven't seen the film. In the vein of the rest of the film, the music is bubbly and lovable. For me, the standout numbers are "Do-Re-Mi", with it's catchy lyrics and gorgeous montage of Salzburg locations, and "I Have Confidence", a new song that showcases Julie Andrews at her most girlishly buoyant. Even the smaller songs work their magic in context. The patriotic folk song, "Edelweiss", written by Rogers and Hammerstein specifically for the musical, is given a rousing rendition late, as is the titular song, "The Sound of Music", in a poignant scene halfway through the film. They're not all gold, but the songs in The Sound of Music are a class above most movie musicals.
The Sound of Music succeeds on terms that we don't often think to evaluate movies on. It is lovable to an extreme, not concerned with the strength of its script, but with the charm of its actors, the quality of its locations, and the sound of its music. Bob Wise's direction, as technically accomplished as it is, is not as important as the intangible spark of magic in Julie Andrews' eyes. The breathtaking cinematography is great, but what makes The Sound of Music truly special is the sense of family, and the love we have for them. It's hard to evaluate The Sound of Music critically, because its greatness extends beyond critical evaluation. I fell in love with this film, and like the real deal, I'll never be able to fully explain why.
94/100