One of the great things about growing up in the 70s and 80s is that most households just had three network television stations, a PBS station, and a smattering of fuzzy UHF stations.  So once a year, you knew every kid in your class saw The Ten Commandments.  And every kid in your class saw The Wizard of Oz, and every kid in your class saw The Sound of Music.  These movies became touchstones for my generation, and whether you were making fun of them or celebrating them, they were and are an instant flash of nostalgia that doesn't fail to make me smile.

My sons (now ages 5 and 7) both learned the song Do-Re-Mi in their preschool class when they were 4, and after my younger son learned it and was singing it in the car one day, I realized that I had the CD soundtrack of The Sound of Music in the car, so I put it in and we listened to the entire song.  They both wanted to hear it again, and again, and again, so we did.  Then we listened to My Favorite Things and The Lonely Goatherd, because they had the kids singing, and I remember they were my favorites when I was a pup.  So now and then, we'd listen to the songs and sing along.  This was going on for a year or more, and I finally thought, "we should just watch the movie," so last Monday, we did.

This was probably my first time seeing The Sound of Music in almost twenty years, and my first time watching it as an adult.  I was suprised at what I still remembered after so many years, but also surprised that there were parts of the movie I had forgotten, or never really understood.  I guess it shouldn't be surprising, with a running time of 174 minutes, that I missed something here and there.  The running time is the film's biggest liability, although in between the scenery, the kids, and the stellar Julie Andrews at the heart of it all, most of the movie flies by.

The story of course is based on the real lives of the Austrian Von Trapp family, led by Captain Von Trapp.  His wife died a few years before the movie begins, leaving him with seven children between the ages of five and sixteen.  The children burn through their nannies like seven children would, until Fraulein Maria comes along.  A nun candidate who doesn't quite fit in at the abbey, Maria brings her love of music and adventure into Captain Von Trapp's cold household just in time to save him from an even colder marriage to a wealthy widow.  All this is happening at the brink of the Nazi anschluss of Austria, and the newly merged family needs to find a way out before the Germans take their father away from them. 

Watching it as a father with my own family for the first time, I noticed that the boys were enthralled any time the kids were on the screen.  I remember that myself--that when the kids were off screen, I'd take the time to go to the bathroom, get pajamas on, get more popcorn--which might be why I've "forgotten" certain parts of the movie.  Truthfully, there might be parts of the movie I've never seen.  The parts with the seven children still make me laugh--possibly more, now that I've married into my wife's family.  She grew up as one of seven siblings, and I can read some of their chaos into the Von Trapps.  There are several songs with the children and Maria, but the high point as far as singing, choreography, and "this can only happen in a frigging musical" is still Do-Re-Mi.  Starting on a hillside and then singing their way through Salzburg by bicycle, by carriage, and by foot, the governess and her seven children don't even earn a second glance from bystanders as they prance, dance, and hop their way through scales and song.  And I love it.  Even their stupid clothes made from Maria's stupid old curtains. 

What suprised me was how much I enjoyed the "adult" parts of the movie this time around, finally understanding Christopher Plummer's Captain Von Trapp.  As a child watching, I felt like he hated his children and he was just a mean old man; I feel like I finally got him this time around.  Having lost his first wife and bricked up his heart, he really doesn't want to have to feel again and face the possibility of losing another wife.  The marriage to the Baroness would be convenient and maybe even fun, but he doesn't love her.  Maria makes him see things differently, makes him see his own children again.  I was also struck by what the song Edelweiss really means--demonstrating his fierce love of Austria on the eve of the Nazi annexation.  It's defiant and passionate, even though it's a song about a little white flower.  And it's beautiful.

The movie is a little long, and the DVD presentation has the intermission and Entr'act built into it.  For our boys, we actually broke it up into two parts--when the seven children sing So Long, Farewell at the party, it was a good time to put our own children to bed; we finished it up the next day.  They still loved it, and were hanging on every note of the songs, even when they didn't quite understand some of them. 

Watching it again this week reignited my Julie Andrews crush--from her tomboyish haircut, running down the streets of Salzburg with her guitar case to her cheeky defiance of the Captain, she's perfect in every scene.  I love her spinning around on the hilltop, I love her puppeteering of little goats, I love her as a woman falling in love for the first time.  She gives a wonderful performance, and she really is the heart of the movie.  I don't see this film working with anyone else in that role.

If it's been a while since you've seen The Sound of Music, it's worth checking out again.  The version I watched is the 2003 two-disc DVD, and includes the 90 minute documentary The Sound of Music: From Fact to Phenomenon as well as the original 1965 documentary, Salzburg Sight and Sound.  Both are good, and deepened my understanding of the movie, the cast, and the filmmaking process.  They also tell the story of the real Von Trapp family, and have changed how I'll watch this movie the next time I watch it. 

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD