‘The Sound Of Music’ Retrospective: Are the Hills Alive and Well 60 Years Later?

“When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.”

The month of March marks the 60th anniversary of “The Sound of Music,” a film that has left an enduring imprint on society’s collective consciousness. Since its release in 1965, this movie has garnered numerous accolades and is immortalized in the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress. The anniversary is an invitation for audiences to experience its sweeping romance, iconic music, and picturesque mountainous landscapes once again.

“The Sound of Music” remains a cherished cinematic masterpiece, but it also embodies the complexities of its era: 1960s America. The film presents an idealized world that is both captivating and at times limiting. Its appeal stems from many factors: Julie Andrews’ luminous performance, the late Christopher Plummer’s charm, a heartwarming depiction of family and love, and a Golden Age Hollywood aesthetic that blends music, dancing, and just enough danger — without veering into true darkness.

At its core, “The Sound of Music” follows the true, albeit quite romanticized, story of Maria von Trapp (Julie Andrews), a rebellious and vivacious Austrian nun-in-training who becomes governess to the seven von Trapp children and falls in love with their dashing, military father, Georg von Trapp (Christopher Plummer). Through memorable melodies — who could forget the lyrics of “Do-Re-Mi” or the elegance of “Edelweiss”? — and stunning shots of the Austrian Alps, the film delivers a narrative about selfhood, faith, morality, and the courage to choose your own destiny, amidst the political upheaval of 1940s Austria. In today’s world, which is marked by its own political turmoil and the rise of extremism, the story resonates in unexpected ways. It reminds us of the power of standing by one’s principles and of pursuing the life one truly desires, even in times of uncertainty. These are the attributes that make “The Sound of Music” not just a classic, but a film that still sits on the pulse of the cultural moment.

Maria’s journey is, in many ways, one of female empowerment. In the context of 1960s America, where traditional gender roles were being questioned, her character is an endearing portrayal of self-determination and self-actualization. Maria challenges Captain von Trapp’s rigid parenting style — “Excuse me sir, I don't know your signal” — refuses to be intimidated by his militant manner and ultimately wins his heart. Though some might see Maria’s two life options — either serve God or serve man — as limited — after all, Maria ends up in a role of domesticity and motherhood — one could also argue that feminism is about choice. Maria fights for love, yes. But more importantly, she fights for herself and the life that she genuinely desires — a life of meaning and purpose that does not sacrifice her love for her religion or Captain von Trapp. As Mother Abbess (Peggy Wood) says to her, “Maria, the love of a man and a woman is holy too.”

Even Baroness Schraeder (Eleanor Parker), Captain von Trapp’s love interest and Maria’s romantic rival, symbolizes a form of empowered womanhood. When she realizes that the Captain does not love her, but rather Maria, she walks away with grace and self-respect. The Baroness, wealthy on her own accord, refuses to settle for a man who does not truly want to be with her. Her decision to step aside is quietly radical.

Of course, there are moments in the film that do not sit well with modern audiences. The song “Sixteen Going On Seventeen” presents a particularly uncomfortable dynamic, as Liesl’s (Charmian Carr) toxic Nazi-sympathizing quasi-boyfriend Rolf (Daniel Truhitte) lectures her about the world of men.“Your life, little girl, is an empty page / That men will want to write on, to write on.” While the song was likely intended to be playful, it does not age well and reads today as nothing less than patronizing.

Yet, “The Sound of Music” also portrays a number of complex moral conundrums and ethical dilemmas. The Captain’s refusal to collaborate with the Nazis — and his unwavering commitment to his principles at the loss of his rank, his career, and his home — suggests a powerful message about the importance of standing up to tyranny at great personal cost. The film’s depiction of true action as an embodiment of moral conviction is deeply impactful.

Sixty years later, “The Sound of Music” is still a film worth watching, analyzing, and debating. It captures the best and worst of its era — standing side by side with its enduring themes of love, courage, and self-discovery. While the film is not of modern standards, its place in cultural history is undeniable and its lessons remain as relevant as ever.

—Staff writer Caroline J. Rubin can be reached at caroline.rubin@thecrimson.com.