For My 500th Review, Here is One of My Favorite Things

Climb ev’ry mountain, ford ev’ry stream… The Mother Abbess’ inspiring words ring in my ears as I compose this, my 500th review for Epinions. Actually, I guess I technically hit that mark a few reviews back, since I’ve deleted a couple of really bad ones and written a couple on products I later realized were no longer in production. But for the sake of ceremony, I’ll look on this as the culmination of a journey, and a vantage point from which to view my next course. What better day to celebrate than my 23rd birthday, and what better way than by reviewing my favorite musical – and a top contender for favorite movie – of all time?

The Sound of Music is one of those movies whose appearance in my life I cannot trace. It’s been there further back than I can remember. I still recall listening to the soundtrack on vinyl when I was a toddler and opening my mom’s Swiss Chalet jewelry box every time I entered the room to hear the tinkly strains of The Lonely Goatherd. Several years later, I read Maria’s autobiography, of which the events of this movie were only a small part, and watched awestruck and a wee bit jealous as my fellow students at Mercyhurst Preparatory School performed the play to perfection. Last year, I attended a Sound of Music Sing-Along dressed in Maria style, belting out all those old familiar favorites and enduring the wisecracks of the woman seated behind us in response to what was happening on the screen. I love musicals, period. But none quite as much as I love this one.

The story is a familiar one to most, the image of Maria running across the hills with outstretched arms an allusion that has made its way into films as diverse as The Pink Panther Strikes Again and The Sixth Sense. Julie Andrews brings an irrepressible spirit, an unmatchable joie de vivre, to this character who is both very similar to and very different from her title role in Mary Poppins, another of my favorite films. Like Mary, she comes into a home where good-hearted children are behaving destructively due to a dysfunctional relationship with their father. Like Mary, she uses her creative energies to win the children’s affections and helps them to bridge the gap that has grown between them and their father. While Maria has as much spunk as Miss Poppins, it gets her into trouble sometimes. In spite of her attempts to psyche herself up to the point of jubilantly declaring I Have Confidence, she lacks Mary’s cool self-assuredness. In spite of her general cheery demeanor, she is, by turns, unnerved, ashamed, apologetic, flustered… She displays all the extremes of passion that Mary so carefully keeps in check, and we love her all the more for it. She also lacks Mary’s vanity and self-interest. Maria is never hot on herself, and she couldn’t care less about wearing a dress so ugly it couldn’t even be given away to the poor. As an earnest nun in training, her first thought is usually a desire to do what God intends her to do. While I love Andrews in both films, Maria easily wins as my favorite character. In fact, she is my favorite female character in all of cinema, the one I most identify with and aspire to.

Christopher Plummer provides a perfect complement to this character in his portrayal of Captain Georg Von Trapp, a man who uses sternness as a salve for wounds he wishes to forget. In spite of his icy presence towards the beginning of the film, it is easy to see that he has a latent warmth that only needs a catalyst to melt the barriers he’s placed between himself and his children. His dry wit is an especially enjoyable aspect of his character, especially in scenes where it counterbalances Maria’s more clumsy passion. When the chemistry of this initial rivalry yields itself to affection, Plummer brings heart-breaking tenderness to the role. The depth of emotion conveyed through his eyes is remarkable, particularly in that climactic moment just before he declares his love for his young governess.

Everyone in the cast does a fine job. Peggy Wood’s Mother Abbess is wise and matronly, the gentlest and most authoritative figure in the film. Capping a successful film career, Eleanor Parker brings just the right degree of cold elegance to the Baroness, a rather villainous but not entirely unsympathetic figure. Much more likable is Richard Haydn as Max Detweiler, a shrewd businessman and close friend of the Captain whose fun-loving personality makes him a favorite of the Von Trapp children. His comedic delivery provides a nice contrast to the chilly and dull Baroness who appears in most of his scenes. The seven children, Charmian Carr (Liesl), Heather Menzies (Louisa), Nicholas Hammond (Friedrich), Duane Chase (Kurt), Angela Cartwright (Brigitta), Debbie Turner (Marta), and Kym Karath (Gretl), work wonderfully together, bringing a mixture of mischief and sweetness to Maria’s charges.

A large part of Sound of Music’s enduring popularity is, of course, the music. This is Rodgers and Hammerstein’s crowning achievement, and there’s not a song here I find tedious or unnecessary. From the exuberant title song and the educational Do Re Mi to the heartening My Favorite Things and the clever So Long, Farewell, the songs in this film are among the most beloved in cinematic history. And Eidelweiss, the last song Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote together, has such a level of authenticity about it that most people believe it actually is an Austrian folk song predating the events of the movie.

At its core, Sound of Music is a film about love. Last year, my favorite local radio station asked listeners to call in with their favorite romantic movie of all time, and I told my brother, much to his disgust, that Sound of Music got my vote. The gradual development of Maria and Captain Von Trapp’s mutual affection, standing in contrast to the puppy love of Liesl and Rowlf and the Captain’s chilly engagement to the socially compatible Baroness, is thoroughly satisfying. The Captain’s uncharacteristic stumbling as he tries to verbalize his feelings to Maria is most endearing, and the moment she realizes beyond a shadow of a doubt that her love is not one-sided is always a thrill.

But entwined with this are many other types of love. The love of life, which Maria embodies. Of music, which she passes on to the children and which, in real life, led to the formation of a successful family act, whose fame allowed Maria to publish the autobiography which inspired the musical. (The real departure from Austria was far less dramatic, incidentally; after refusing a couple invitations from Hitler to sing for him, the family thought it wise to leave the country.) Of nature, to which the film’s sweeping cinematography alludes. Of family, which Maria helps the Captain to reclaim. He falls in love with her largely through her love of his children. Of God, which is so strong in Maria that she wants to spend her life as a nun. But her faith allows perceive that she can do God’s will outside of the cloistered Abbey walls, and that God will protect her family as they flee from peril. And, of course, love of country, which moves from subplot into the foreground after the wedding, which would seem a logical stopping place. But the rumors and whispers overshadowed by the romance find culmination in the film’s final scenes, and all the other threads come together to help our protagonists combat the evil that confronts them.

There are few movies with the enduring power of Sound of Music. It’s a film everyone ought to see at some time or another. I’ve seen it many times, and I can only go so long before the urge strikes me to watch it yet again; I think I’m coming up on that time now. Watch it and treasure it. I dare you to be unmoved.