The Sound of Music review – a joyous blast of song and hope that speaks to today

<span>‘Children on a par with adults’: The Sound of Music at Pitlochry Festival theatre.</span><span>Photograph: Fraser Band</span>
‘Children on a par with adults’: The Sound of Music at Pitlochry Festival theatre.Photograph: Fraser Band

Light breaks through darkness; love heals ruptures – but only if we have the courage to make the right decisions. The Sound of Music (the 1959 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical and the 1965 film) is based on the true story of the Von Trapp family in Austria on the eve of the Anschluss in 1938. Its appeal endures, as this new, joy-filled production demonstrates, because it speaks across time and space to today.

Ruari Murchison’s design suggests a space as much metaphysical as physical. At the back of the stage a dark shadow with sharp, geometric edges rises to meet a similar black mass, descending. A streak of light, mottled with pinks, purples, blue, seems to push them apart. Centre stage, a stepped dais revolves to represent a mountain, a domestic staircase, a church aisle.

Arranged around and behind the dais is a semicircle of actor-musicians who sometimes set aside their instruments when they enter in character, or bring them along to perform in a scene. There’s a quality of playfulness about this relation between orchestra and action, which is highlighted by Richard Reeday’s witty musical arrangements.

Under Elizabeth Newman’s sensitive and thoughtful direction, the musical’s multitalented ensemble fully engages our hearts and minds – children on a par with adults. Kirsty Findlay’s Maria sparklingly combines a fresh and youthful delivery with a singing depth that suggest the inner strength she will uncover in the course of the action, as she transitions from postulant to governess, wife, stepmother and refugee. She is every bit a match for stern Captain von Trapp, movingly thawed from grief in Ali Watt’s finely crafted performance.

The fate of all depends on one last choice: the telegram boy turned Nazi (Elliot Gooch) whose love for Liesl, the captain’s eldest daughter (Sally Cheng), guides his decision not to reveal their whereabouts to pursuing stormtroopers. Life triumphs over death.

Newman’s final production as artistic director of Pitlochry Festival theatre offers a fine example of her ability to deliver entertaining shows that develop encounters between then and now, here and there, us and them. She leaves a solid legacy for actor Alan Cumming, who will take over the role next year. I look forward to seeing what Newman will achieve in her next post, as AD of Sheffield Theatres.