I’m old enough to have lived through several “event” movies, either in their original or anniversary releases. These rare birds fly far beyond the realm of “hit movie.” Back in the day, they packed cinemas everywhere, before home entertainment or even television airings were an option. Star Wars, Gone with the Wind, Jaws, The Exorcist, and, without question, The Sound of Music are among them. I was three years old when this film debuted, so I didn’t see it then. But I was nearly 13 for the tenth-anniversary rerelease, and lines formed around the block for that as well. I remember it as if it were yesterday. The movies I listed above weren’t available on TV. The Sound of Music and Gone with the Wind didn’t make their broadcast debuts until 1976, and securing the rights to air them set new records. Before that, you saw them in a movie theatre, or you didn’t see them at all. It was a different era, and it can’t be repeated.

I mention all of this because it’s hard to imagine the impact this movie made and what a cultural phenomenon it was. Films don’t play in wide release for four-and-a-half years and sell 283 million admissions anymore. The Sound of Music did. Even the biggest Marvel Comic flicks today rake in the dough in a matter of weeks with their inflated ticket prices but pale in comparison as far as audience attendance goes. The Sound of Music was not a guaranteed hit, either. It was based on the final Broadway musical written by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, just before the latter’s death. It tied for the Tony Award as Best Musical, received mixed-to-positive reviews, and enjoyed a healthy run of 1,443 performances. Film adaptations had already been made for previous Rodgers and Hammerstein works: Oklahoma!, Carousel, South Pacific, Flower Drum Song, and most notably The King and I. Their successes were varied, but none were “event” movies … until this one.

Julie Andrews as Maria.

Due to horrendous financial management and a host of other issues, 20th Century Fox nearly shuttered forever after the 1963 release of Cleopatra. The studio regrouped instead and looked for bankable properties it already owned to put into production. All eyes turned to The Sound of Music, and the rest is history. This movie is credited with saving 20th Century Fox. No major stars are involved, because the studio couldn’t afford them. At the time, the most recognizable name attached was Eleanor Parker, a 1940s and ’50s film star with three Best Actress nominations to her credit. Peggy Wood had appeared in movies but was best known as television’s Mama (based on I Remember Mama). Christopher Plummer was a 36-year-old Canadian actor, respected for his stage and television work, and Julie Andrews hadn’t had a single film released when she was cast as Maria. Robert Wise made arrangements with Walt Disney for a private screening of the forthcoming Mary Poppins, just to see if she was photogenic on the big screen. All concerns were instantly put to rest.

The Sound of Music has so many things going for it that help to explain its global appeal. The old saying “there’s something in it for everybody” holds true. Sure, it’s adapted from a hit Broadway show, but that doesn’t guarantee box-office gold, by any means. It’s part musical, part romance, part war film, and part travelogue. The songs are familiar to many, but placing them in their natural settings and filming around the Bavarian Alps and Salzburg in jaw-dropping Todd-AO helped sweep audiences away. Robert Wise is the perfect choice for director. A master of timing and pacing, Wise began his career as an editor on films like Citizen Kane and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. He won an Oscar for co-directing West Side Story, another musical, but he was equally adept in just about every film genre. Among his eclectic, directorial credits are dramas like I Want to Live! and Executive Suite, horror films like Curse of the Cat People and The Haunting, science-fiction classics like The Day the Earth Stood Still and Star Trek: The Motion Picture, war movies like Run Silent, Run Deep and The Sand Pebbles, and romances like Two for the Seesaw. His biggest concern, shared in agreement with Julie Andrews, was taking the “schmaltz” out of The Sound of Music, and it was right for them to feel this way. The story has a natural sweetness and innocence amplified by its gorgeous songs. It doesn’t need help from the actors or director. Christopher Plummer, in particular, found the whole thing to be cloying, but Wise worked with him throughout filming to make sure he played it seriously. No wink-and-nod moments allowed.

Heather Menzies, Julie Andrews, Kym Karath, Nicholas Hammond, Charmian Carr, Debbie Turner, and Angela Cartwright enjoy a breathtaking mountain view in Werfen, Austria.

The two reasons why this movie went through the roof and surpassed all expectations of success are timing and plot. The 1960s were tumultuous years, to put it mildly. Our country was ripped apart over a war that many felt was unjustified and unnecessary, at least as far as our nation’s involvement was concerned. On the surface, The Sound of Music offers an escape to the majestic mountains and villages of another time and place, but it was a similar era of civil unrest that audiences understood. The movie begins with a title card that reads “the last golden days of the thirties” … and for many, the ’60s reflected a similar loss of innocence, particularly following the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963. Our nation yearned to feel safe and stable again.

Aside from timing, the plot resonates. This is a story of a broken family that reinvents itself with a new mother and a promising future despite adverse surroundings. It’s a family that isn’t connected through blood relation but through love instead. This idea strikes a common chord for many: we can choose our family. The first time I saw this film as a wide-eyed 12-year-old, I longed to be a Von Trapp kid. I was inspired watching their family come together. It’s no secret the film’s success led to The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family on television—more fragmented families brought together by love and music.

Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer dance the Landler.

The cast is outstanding, and Wise lets them shine with indelible closeups of their reactions and thoughts. In fact, he doesn’t limit it to the principal characters. During an early sequence in Nonnberg Abbey, images of nuns at prayer paint a thousand words. We see their backstories and history written on individual faces. As many times as I have seen this movie, I marvel at Eleanor Parker’s eyes glistening with tears at the moment her engagement is called off with Georg. I love Max’s repressed triumph witnessing Herr Zeller as he springs from his seat at the festival when it’s announced the Von Trapps have fled the scene. I’m inspired by the strength of Peggy Wood’s graceful profile during the final crescendo of “Climb Every Mountain.” I’m heartbroken by the betrayal on Liesl’s face as she discovers her beloved Rolfe among the Nazis, with his pistol drawn, hunting for her family. I love the silhouetted body language in the gazebo, during “Something Good.” This is how a stage production is adapted successfully as a film. Along with wide-open vistas of the Alps, it gives us these intimate closeups of faces that can’t be replicated to this extent in other media. The screenplay adaptation is brilliant as well, and Ernest Lehman deserves high praise for strengthening the dramatic moments throughout, while shifting the placement of songs, like “My Favorite Things” and “The Lonely Goatherd.”

Peggy Wood as the Mother Abbess.

Speaking of songs, Rodgers and Hammerstein aren’t given enough credit for the depth in their work. Their music is often branded as simple, sweet, romantic … or as Wise and Andrews put it with loving intention, “schmaltzy.” But there is an underlying complexity to these songs. Take “My Favorite Things,” for example, a song meant to cheer up the characters by listing everything that makes them feel good. But the melody weaves in and out of major and minor chords throughout the list, indicating contrary emotions of joy and melancholy. There is a longing and gravity to it, whether we recognize it or not. “Edelweiss” is the last song this legendary duo wrote together. Hammerstein was on his deathbed in the hospital when he finished his lyrics. Its placement in the story makes it one of the most powerful anti-war songs ever written. Its strength isn’t in showing us what is wrong with the world. Instead, it shows us what is right, beautiful, and pure … and worth living for.

The Sound of Music endures. I have no doubt it will entertain audiences for generations to come—as long as there is civil injustice in the world that threatens freedom, and as long as broken families can find each other and unite in love. This movie easily deserved its selection as Best Picture, and it’s one of my favorite films of all time.

The Sound of Music