AFI #40: The Sound Of Music (1965)

This is a version of a review airing on ABC Radio Ballarat and South West Victoria on September 3, 2021.

This is part of a series of articles reviewing the American Film Institute's Top 100 Films, as unveiled in 2007. Why am I doing this? Because the damned cinemas were closed and I had to review something, and now I can't stop until I finish.

(G) ★★★★★

Director: Robert Wise

Cast: Julie Andrews, Christopher Plummer, Eleanor Parker, Richard Haydn, Peggy Wood, Charmian Carr, Nicholas Hammond, Heather Menzies, Duane Chase, Angela Cartwright, Debbie Turner, Kym Karath, Anna Lee, Portia Nelson, Ben Wright, Daniel Truhitte, Gil Stuart.

"Some of those that were enforcers, are the same that burn crosses..."

Christopher Plummer famously hated The Sound Of Music. Despite it being the movie that made him famous and the one that served as the main point of reference in his media obituaries earlier this year, he called it "so awful and sentimental and gooey" and "an albatross around my neck", preferring to title it "The Sound of Mucus".

Out of all the movies I've been watching and re-watching on this list, this was one of the films I was looking forward to the least. I hadn't seen it since I was 10, and, from where I sat, Plummer's assessment has been the prevailing wind as the film has blown down through the ages. Singing nuns, the annoying children, the impossibly cutesy songs - it seemed like three hours (!) of saccharine torture lay ahead. It's reputation is that of a movie loved only by old ladies and young children. "Cool" publications like Film didn't include it in their "definitive guide" to the top 100 films (c. 2006), while it was also absent from Empire's mammoth 2008 poll to create their Top 500 Films Of All Time list.

How pleasantly surprised I was. As noted in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, "it is all too easy to knock Robert Wise's enormously successful screen adaptation of Rodgers and Hammerstein's musical hit". Yes, it's more twee than a Belle & Sebastian cover band and at least 20 minutes too long, but it's also one of the most beautifully filmed movies of its era, and not just because of those stunning mountain backdrops. For a musical, it's blessed with more hits than Ali vs Foreman, and melodically it's richer than Smaug. On top of all that, Julie Andrews and her remarkable voice sell every moment as Maria, while Plummer, despite his reticence over the role, is damned convincing in a surprisingly complex role. And there is an undertone of darkness and impending doom in the latter half that's oft-forgotten amid the raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

It's the look of the thing that surprised me the most. Leaving the mountains aside, Wise's direction and Ted D McCord's cinematography are subtle yet stunning. Here are some key examples.

It's just a bunch of singing nuns, but the angle, the depth of field, and the lighting on this are superb. They appear almost bathed in a heavenly light, and we are literally looking up to them, implying a level of reverence that will later help humanise Maria.

Wonderful framing (not to mention the production design) - look at how small Maria seems, yet somehow the kids seem big and foreboding. Note all the muted colours too; this is early in the film, and hints at the lack of joy within the Von Trapp household.

Pretty much any shot in the gazebo is outstanding thanks to the use of magical backlighting. The shadows and light work in gorgeous ways in the two scenes set there.

These are just a few examples, and none of them feature mountains or sunshine, cos that feels like cheating. The film bursts with sunshine, and it's hard to make the Alps look shit. 

Speaking of bursting with sunshine, let's talk about the music. There's an impossible amount of cheery melodies, all feeding into the notion that music is a metaphor for joy in the first half of the film. It's life-affirming - check out how I Have Confidence, My Favourite Things and the opening version of the title track are used. Music is banned in the Von Trapp house, and the grief of Captain Von Trapp makes him the "villain" of the opening hour, as he demands obedience and stifles fun. He shuts down the exuberance of My Favourite Things, and it's the children singing The Sound Of Music that ultimately melts his frozen heart, opening up the plot in the second half to love triangles and a family unified in the face of oncoming oppression.

But it's also more than just singing about hills being alive and schnitzel with noodles. When they sing Edelweiss at the end, it's an act of defiance similar to the singing of La Marseillaise in Casablanca. It's a beautifully powerful moment, worthy of being Hammerstein's final song (he died nine months after the stage production opened on Broadway).

By the way, Coltrane knew where it was at:

All these gorgeous melodies cloak the dark heart of the film. It's easy to forget that the key final scene of the film is set in a cemetery and involves a gun-toting Nazi willing to sell out his girlfriend for the Third Reich. Hitler's brewing storm looms over much of the film, not only bolstering Captain Von Trapp's transformation from antagonist to hero, but building a sense of family-friendly danger that makes the last half-hour genuinely exciting.

The latter half of the film also sees the sexual tension ramped up between Maria and the Captain. Interestingly, the film doesn't make the third side of the love triangle - the Baroness - out to be a villain, which it could have easily done. That it avoids the evil stepmother route is to be applauded, as it makes the Baroness a far more complicated and interesting character as a result. Parker's performance as the Baroness is also somewhat under-rated, but she helps make the role more layered and satisfying.

Of course, her performance is under-appreciated due to it being overshadowed by Plummer and Andrews, who are outstanding. As a couple they have real chemistry, but as adversaries the friction is just as satisfying. In a film that boasts the patriarchal ickyness of 16 Going On 17, Maria is a powerful woman willing to stand up to the Captain, yet deeply uncertain about her place in the world. Her character is best summed up by her first arrival at the Von Trapp mansion - the way Andrews skips down the lane, then has a momentary freak-out at the imposing site of the house behind its massive wrought-iron gates, before steeling herself once again is a thing of beauty.

Meanwhile, the Captain's transformation is believable and rewarding, thanks to Plummer being at home as both "grieving father who would rather be back in the military" and "loving parent, husband and patriot". The lip-synching work by he and secret singer Bill Lee is also excellent.

The film isn't quite perfect - I could happily lose the weird puppet show/Lonely Goatherd number, Something Good goes on too long, and as good a song as Climb Every Mountain is, it slows the pace of the film and feels out of place. But by the time you come to these songs, you're fully invested, and what lies ahead more than pays off in spite of the old One Song Too Many Syndrome that infects so many musicals.

It's very easy and, dare I say it, cool to turn your nose up at The Sound Of Music, "to dismiss the film for its blatant manipulation of sentiment", as critic Allan Hunter put it. "But to do so would be to ignore the considerable brilliance of both director (Wise) and performers, the staggering beautiful use of the Swiss scenery, the tuneful songs and the creation of an old-fashioned entertainment that cross all boundaries of age and nationality in its appeal."

Singing nuns and gun-toting Nazis - something for everyone.