The Sound of Music has a confidence and a sense of moral purpose that warms the hardest heart, says Sarah Crompton.

A joy: Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music

At this distance it is hard to separate Robert Wise’s lush film version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s final musical from its current incarnation in thousands of sing along performances, with audiences dressed as nuns and winsome kids.
Even in 1965, the film divided opinion. Wise originally turned down the chance to direct because he felt it was too saccharine. Reviews were lukewarm. The eminent critic Pauline Kael described it as “the sugar-coated lie that people seem to want to eat.”
But bad films don’t survive to be loved as much as this one is. And from the soaring opening shot, swooping over the mountains to find the glorious figure of Julie Andrews singing with a voice as clear as a mountain stream and as pure as an angel, to the closing moment when Andrews leads her bedraggled family back over those heights, the movie has a confidence and a sense of moral purpose that warms the hardest heart.

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