The Music Man 1962

The cinematic journey begins with a chorus of discontented traveling salesmen aboard a 1912 railroad car, lamenting the societal and economic shifts that are making their profession increasingly arduous. As they bemoan the rise of unscrupulous salesmen, one individual in particular draws their ire: the enigmatic “Professor” Harold Hill (Robert Preston), who peddles musical instruments, instruction books, and uniforms to unsuspecting townsfolk, promising to form a band in exchange for a hefty sum. His dubious reputation precedes him, with one wag remarking that he doesn’t know the difference between a treble clef and a tin can. The train’s steam engine provides an eerie accompaniment to their harmonies as they pull into the station stop of River City, Iowa.

As Harold Hill disembarks from his latest escapade, he finds himself in a quaint, old-fashioned Midwestern town where the residents are as stubborn as they are affable. They extend a warm welcome with a folksy tune, extolling the virtues of Iowans: hardworking, kind-hearted, and generous to a fault. Hill’s ears perk up at the mention of an old acquaintance, Marcellus Washburn (Buddy Hackett), who has traded in his shady dealings for a life of quiet honesty in River City. Over a cup of coffee, the two reminisce about their checkered pasts, with Hill revealing his latest get-rich-quick scheme: boys’ bands. However, Marcellus cautions that this venture may prove more perilous than usual, as the town’s librarian and piano instructor, Marian Paroo (Shirley Jones), is a sharp-minded individual who will surely see through his ruse.

Undeterred, Harold Hill sets his sights on Marian, both professionally and romantically. He also announces that he plans to linger in River City for several weeks, exploiting the town’s naivety not only by selling instruments but also uniforms, which will take a little longer to arrive. Marcellus remains skeptical about the feasibility of this plan, but Hill is undaunted, sensing an opportunity to prove himself and secure his place in the community.

The stodgy Eulalie Mackechnie Shinn (Hermione Gingold) descends upon the Madison library, her primness and ignorance on full display. Her ire is piqued by the recommended reading material for her daughter Zaneeta: The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Specifically, she objects to depictions of people indulging in seemingly licentious activities - “people lying out in the woods, eating sandwiches, and drinking from jugs” - a reference to the famous poem’s line about bread, wine, and companionship.

Meanwhile, Harold is on a mission to find a timely hook for his pitch. Marcellus informs him of a forthcoming installation at the local billiard parlor: a pool table. Harold seizes upon this development, warning merchants that this new attraction will corrupt the town’s youth and lead them astray. He launches into an impromptu performance, singing “You’ve got trouble right here in River City / with a capital T and that rhymes with P / and that stands for pool,” as curious onlookers gather around.

Marian happens upon the commotion and is pointed out to Harold by Marcellus via a prearranged signal. Later, as she returns home, Harold attempts to charm her with his best pickup lines, but she remains chilly towards him. Upon arriving at her residence, Marian finds Amaryllis (Monique Vermont) awaiting her piano lesson. As they chat, Marian confides in her mother, Mrs. Paroo (Pert Kelton), about a suitor who had attempted to follow her. Mrs. Paroo is thrilled by this development, as she longs for Marian to settle down and marry, but Marian is unimpressed with the intellectual caliber of the men she’s encountered.

As their conversation escalates into a lively musical exchange, Amaryllis accompanies them on the piano with an exercise in perfect harmony. The disagreement between Marian and her mother revolves around whether her standards are unrealistically high, leaving the question of whom she’ll ultimately choose hanging precariously in the balance.

As Amaryllis steps out into the warm evening air to fetch a refreshing drink from the outdoor pump, she’s unexpectedly joined by Winthrop (Ron Howard), Marian’s young brother, whose innocent charm is tempered by his pronounced lisp. Initially taken aback by the boy’s botched pronunciation of her name, Amaryllis’ initial giggle quickly turns to mortification as Winthrop, crestfallen and tearful, beats a hasty retreat inside. Her subsequent conversation with Marian reveals a deep-seated affection for the young boy, whom she’s come to know through their nightly ritual of saying goodnight under the evening star. However, her friend astutely points out that Winthrop’s lisp is merely symptomatic of his broader struggles to connect with others, and that patience and understanding are essential in bridging the gaps between him and the rest of the world.

Meanwhile, the townspeople gather for their annual Fourth of July celebration at the local high school, where Mayor Shinn (Paul Ford) holds court alongside his wife. The self-proclaimed leader’s pompous posturing is matched only by his verbal ineptitude, making him a perfect foil for the chaos that ensues when Tommy Djilas (Timmy Everett) sets off a firecracker behind Mrs. Shinn, sending the proceedings into disarray. Amidst the ensuing pandemonium, Harold Hill takes to the stage, donning his band director’s uniform and rallying the crowd with an impassioned plea for the creation of a boys’ band, extolling its virtues as a wholesome occupation for the town’s youth. This stirring oration gives way to the rousing musical number “Seventy-six trombones led the big parade / with a hundred and ten cornets close at hand / they were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuosos / the cream of every famous band,” which leaves Marian stone-faced and skeptical.

As the festivities continue, Mayor Shinn becomes increasingly agitated, directing the school board to scrutinize Harold’s credentials in an effort to discredit his proposal.

As Tommy Djilas (actor name) finds himself in the custody of Constable Mayor Shinn, who chastises him for recklessly putting his wife in harm’s way with the firecracker and for fraternizing with Zaneeta, his eldest daughter. Harold, sensing an opportunity to redeem Tommy, takes it upon himself to vouch for the young man, promising to assume responsibility and guide him towards a more constructive path. Recognizing that Tommy exceeds the age range intended for the band, Harold proposes an alternative leadership role, assigning him the task of designing a device capable of housing music for a marching piccolo player. Without hesitation, Tommy sets off in search of suitable wire.

Later that evening, during the Fourth of July celebration, Harold faces off against the School Board, who demand references to validate his claims about their exceptional singing abilities. With his con artist prowess on full display, Harold masterfully manipulates the situation, coaxing The Buffalo Bills (the renowned barbershop quartet) into showcasing their harmonious vocals. As the evening wears on, Harold attempts to forge a connection with Marian, who remains icily unimpressed by his charms. Undeterred, he regales her with an outlandish tale of his academic achievements at the prestigious Gary Indiana Conservatory, where he allegedly graduated in the esteemed gold medal class of ‘05.

Undaunted by Marian’s lack of enthusiasm, Harold turns his attention to convincing River City parents to part with their hard-earned cash for musical instruments and band uniforms. Employing his considerable charm and a healthy dose of embellishment, Harold spins fantastical yarns about the natural talents of their children, showcasing his impressive skills as a master persuader and con artist.

As Harold encounters the stylish matrons of River City within the rustic confines of the livery stable, a stark contrast emerges between their enthusiasm for his artistic prowess and Marian’s reserved demeanor. With calculated charm, he proposes forming a lady’s classic dance auxiliary, effortlessly flattering Mrs. Shin with exaggerated praise for her supposed physical elegance. The ladies are utterly captivated by the idea, but their euphoria quickly turns to animosity when Harold mentions Marian, whom they perceive as a librarian who promotes explicit literature and has brazenly courted Old Miser Madison, the town’s benefactor. They describe her as a spinster, citing repeated visits to his estate, and launch into the upbeat tune “Pick a Little, Talk a Little,” a performance that momentarily diverts attention from Harold’s credentials, which the school board is eager to inspect. With a quick-thinking distraction provided by a jaunty rendition of “Good Night, Ladies,” Harold escapes scrutiny.

That evening, Harold confides in Marcellus about his predilection for women with worldly experience, perceiving Marian as one such individual. His sentiments are reflected in the melancholic melody of “The Sadder but Wiser Girl.” The following day, Harold attempts to rekindle a connection with Marian at the library, where he reveals his knowledge of her past indiscretion and offers forgiveness. However, Marian remains implacable, rejecting his advances once more. In response, Harold breaks into song again, this time belting out “Marian the Librarian,” an energetic performance that disrupts the usually serene atmosphere of the library.

As Harold’s charismatic charm continues to weave its spell over the townspeople, he almost convinces Mayor Shinn (character not provided) to enroll his fictional son in the band. However, Harold is left scrambling when he realizes he has no son to speak of. Undeterred, he pays a visit to the Paroo household and sets his sights on Winthrop, persuading Mrs. Paroo that her shy and reticent son would be a natural cornet player. When Winthrop finally arrives, Harold regales him with tales of the band, the cornet, and the uniform, carefully avoiding any mention of the dreaded “s” word - stripe. As Winthrop draws a line down his pant leg, symbolically blocking out the very idea, Harold reassures him that the uniform will indeed feature a stripe.

Mrs. Paroo reveals to Harold that her son’s silence is not just a passing phase, and Harold, still reeling from the revelation, launches into a nostalgic rendition of “Gary, Indiana,” proudly proclaiming his alma mater - Gary Conservatory, gold medal class of ‘05. Just as it seems like Harold has won over Mrs. Paroo with his charming tune, Marian (character not provided) suddenly appears on the scene, revealing her connection to the Paroo family.

Marian delivers a stern warning to Harold, firmly telling him that they are not interested in the band and that he should respect their family’s boundaries. When Harold presses on, suggesting that Winthrop’s father should be consulted, Marian reveals that the boy’s father passed away two years prior, leaving behind a legacy of grief that has consumed Winthrop’s life.

As Harold departs, Mrs. Paroo urges Marian to seize the opportunity and settle down with Harold, hinting that he might be her last chance at love. Marian responds by pouring her heart out in “Being in Love,” expressing her longing for a connection that truly understands her. Meanwhile, back at the library, Marian stumbles upon an Indiana State Educational Journal, which sets her on a path of discovery as she uncovers information that calls into question Harold’s claims about his esteemed alma mater - Gary Conservatory.

The arrival of the Wells Fargo wagon sparks a flurry of anticipation as the townspeople eagerly await the treasures it brings from far-flung lands. Just prior to its arrival, Marian confides in Mayor Shinn about her discovery of incriminating information in a mysterious tome. However, the mayor puts her off, citing the imminent delivery of the long-awaited band instruments, which promises to bring a burst of excitement to the community. As the wagon finally comes to a stop, Harold springs into action, distributing the instruments with his trademark flair. Winthrop’s eyes light up like a jack-o’-lantern as he receives his coveted cornet, and he can’t help but exclaim: “Oh, Sister! Isn’t this the most scrumptious, solid-gold thing you’ve ever laid eyes on? I never thought I’d see anything so divine!” Marian, witnessing Harold’s transformative power on Winthrop, undergoes a change of heart regarding the charismatic con artist. She secretly tears out the incriminating page from the journal before handing it over to Mayor Shinn.

As the instruments are dispersed throughout the town, Harold imparts his unconventional “think system” of music to the students, encouraging them to tap into their creative potential by simply thinking about a melody. The high school’s women’s dance committee, led by Mrs. Shinn, indulges in an exercise in absurdity as they practice their dance moves with all the finesse of a troupe of flamingos on roller skates. Meanwhile, Harold is busy exhorting the students to tap into their inner muse, urging them to think the Minuet in G and letting loose a barrage of clever distractions when faced with questions about the intricacies of reading music.

Later that evening, Harold treats Tommy Djilas and Zaneeta Shinn (Susan Luckey) to sundaes at the local ice cream parlor, where he has been secretly nurturing their budding romance. However, his efforts are soon thwarted by Mayor Shinn’s sudden arrival, who upbraids Tommy for his association with the mayor’s daughter. The young lovers stand firm against the mayor’s wrath, refusing to back down in the face of his disapproval. As tensions escalate, Marian arrives on the scene, futilely attempting to reason with her husband as he orders Tommy out of the establishment and takes Zaneeta home.

As Marian and Harold engage in a warm conversation about his educational methods, it becomes clear that Winthrop has been kept in the dark about the true nature of his cornet playing. Harold regales them with stories of his “think system,” their camaraderie and mutual respect palpable as they chat on the porch. However, the tranquility is short-lived, as Harold’s visit to the school board yields a stern demand for his credentials. With quick thinking, he deflects their attention by extolling the virtues of renowned female bassoonist Lida Rose Quackenbush, charming them into a rousing performance of “Lida Rose.” Meanwhile, Marian takes her place on her front porch, where she sings a sultry rendition of “Sweet and Low.”

As night begins to fall, Winthrop drops by the Paroo residence, eager to show off his latest gift from Harold – a pocket knife with an array of blades and features. With childlike enthusiasm, he regales Marian and Mrs. Paroo with tales of their time together, revealing that Harold has taken him under his wing. Marian inquires about their conversations, and Winthrop reveals that they discuss both business and more personal matters. He then breaks into a heartfelt performance of the song “Gary, Indiana,” one that Harold had taught him.

As the evening wears on, plans are made for a grand public “sociable” at Madison Park. However, just as things seem to be falling into place, Charlie Cowell, an anvil salesman with a vendetta against Harold Hill, appears at the Paroo residence. With a stack of written documentation in hand, he seeks to expose Harold’s fraudulent methods to Mayor Shinn. Marian, though initially taken aback by Charlie’s accusatory tone, springs into action, defending Harold and buying him time. As Charlie becomes increasingly agitated, Marian uses her charms to delay his departure, ensuring that he misses his train and leaves empty-handed. With a parting shot about Harold’s supposed roguish ways, Charlie disappears into the night, leaving Marian to ponder the true nature of Harold’s intentions.

As Marian’s distress lingers, Harold arrives on the scene, his presence calming her turbulent emotions. The sparks from their conversation ignite as they delve into the scandalous rumors surrounding Charlie Cowell’s numerous romantic entanglements. With a clever retort, Harold deflects the accusations, prompting Marian to reveal her own emotional scars and the painful memories of her father’s passing. In a poignant display of vulnerability, she confides in Harold about her late father’s dear friend, Uncle Maddy Madison, who bestowed upon her the cherished gift of the library and its esteemed position.

As the night wears on, Harold extends an invitation to meet at the footbridge in Madison Park, an offer that Marian initially hesitates to accept due to the romantic connotations attached to this picturesque locale. Yet, Harold’s persistence ultimately wins her over, and they agree to rendezvous beneath the twinkling lights of the park.

Meanwhile, the festivities at the party reach new heights with a rousing dance number, as Marcellus takes center stage, belting out the infectious tune “Shipoopi”. As Harold makes his way to the footbridge, the ladies’ auxiliary launches into an elaborate interpretation of Grecian Urns, their antics a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation unfolding in the shadows.

As the constable summons Mayor Shin to attend to the matter at hand – Charlie Cowell’s whispers of deceit have finally reached the ears of authority – Harold and Marian finally find themselves alone at the footbridge. It is here that they succumb to their feelings, their love blossoming like a tender shoot in the warmth of the summer sun. With Marian’s blessing, Harold acknowledges the impossibility of their love, knowing that his future lies elsewhere.

In a poignant moment of introspection, Marian reveals her suspicions about Harold’s true identity, citing the Educational Journal’s revelation that there was no Gary Conservatory gold medal class of ‘05, as River City hadn’t yet been founded. With a heavy heart, she presents Harold with the incriminating page, its contents condemning him to a choice between flight or arrest.

Back at the party, Mayor Shinn interrupts the musical interlude, his voice booming out like a storm cloud on the horizon. Charlie Cowell’s scathing words cut deep, painting Harold as a swindler and leaving the townspeople reeling in shock. As Winthrop flees in tears, the crowd disperses, embarking on a frantic search for the accused throughout River City, their cries of “Hill is a fake!” echoing through the night like a chorus of outraged citizens.

As the sun dips below the horizon, Harold and Marian arrived at her doorstep, unaware of the whirlwind about to ensue. Unbeknownst to them, the tranquility was short-lived, as their innocent rendition of “Seventy Six Trombones” and “Goodnight my Someone” transformed into a rousing ensemble piece, filling the evening air with harmonious joy.

Meanwhile, Marcellus’s Machiavellian machinations continued to misdirect the search party, all while Mrs. Paroo returned home to find Harold and Marian ensconced in her parlor. Her warnings about the town’s growing discontent only served to perplex Harold, who found himself at a loss for words. Marian, sensing his unease, reassured him that he owed her nothing, and it was time for him to depart.

Just as the trio attempted to part ways, Winthrop burst onto the scene, his countenance a picture of distress. Harold’s gentle intervention arrested Winthrop’s ire, prompting the con man to confront his own dubious reputation. With a hint of remorse, he confessed to being a compulsive liar and a scoundrel, but also revealed that he had genuinely grown fond of Winthrop.

The young boy’s curiosity piqued, Harold revealed two crucial facts: firstly, Winthrop was an extraordinary individual, deserving of recognition; secondly, the other information was none of his business. As Harold glanced up at Marian, it became abundantly clear that the “other thing” he alluded to was his ardent desire to become a part of the Paroo family.

Winthrop’s response was one of indignation, as he wished Harold had never set foot in River City. Marian intervened, reminding everyone of the positive impact Harold had had on their lives, particularly Winthrop’s. However, her words fell on deaf ears, and Harold was ultimately led away by the constable, his dignity in tatters.

As the town gathered at the high school, Mayor Shinn addressed the angry mob, announcing Harold’s downfall with characteristic bluntness: “The sword of retribution has cut down Professor Harold Hill.” The captured con artist was brought before the crowd, where he faced the prospect of tar and feathering.

As Marian rises to her feet, her words pour forth like a fervent appeal: “Can’t you set aside your stubborn Iowa pride for just one moment and recall what this town was like before Harold Hill arrived? Do any of you remember the desolate landscape that once greeted us every day? And then he came, bringing with him a sense of purpose, a reason to be proud, and people worth going out of our way for. Don’t you think it’s only natural to acknowledge the positive impact this man has had on our community?” The mayor intervenes, proposing a show of hands to determine who thinks Harold Hill should face the wrath of tar and feathers.

The room falls silent as the townsfolk hesitate, until finally, people begin to rise from their seats. Mrs. Paroo, Zaneeta, the school board members, the dance committee, and even Mayor Shinn himself join the standing crowd, with his wife defiantly refusing to sit back down when her husband orders her to do so. The mayor’s frustration reaches a boiling point as he demands to know where the promised band is, repeatedly chanting “Where’s the band? Where’s the band?”

As if on cue, Tommy Djilas blows a director’s whistle from the corridor, and the doors swing open to reveal a sea of children in uniform, each clutching an instrument. They file into the room, forming a line at the front, as Marian hands Harold a makeshift podium and baton. With a deep breath, Harold steps forward, his eyes darting nervously about the room before he utters a desperate “Think, men, think!” and begins to conduct the children’s impromptu performance of the Minuet in G. Though the music is rough around the edges, it’s clear that the parents are thrilled by their offspring’s efforts, with delighted cries of “That’s my Barney!” and “That’s Eddie!”

The final act unfolds as a whimsical fantasy, where the ragtag group of children is replaced by an army of real musicians parading down the street, filling the air with the rousing sounds of “Seventy-Six Trombones”.