In 2026, I’m calling it: John Williams is basically a wizard with a baton. The man is 94 years old, and my goosebumps still haven’t filed for retirement. Let’s be real—if you’ve ever hummed a movie tune in the shower, there’s a solid chance you were doing a John Williams impression without even knowing it.

Now, I’ve been obsessed with film music since I could hold a remote, and John Williams is the gold standard. The man’s career spans five decades—no biggie—and he did it by working his tail off and refusing to become a one-trick pony. Reinvention? Adaptability? Williams treats those like warm-up scales. He’s the cinematic equivalent of a fine wine: every decade, he somehow gets richer and more essential.

The wildest part? George Lucas hired him for Star Wars when orchestral scores were about as fashionable as bell-bottoms at a tech convention. The Disney+ documentary Empire of Dreams lays it all out beautifully. The industry was leaning away from sweeping symphonies, and Lucas basically said, “Nah, let’s bring back the full orchestra.” Williams didn’t just deliver; he changed the whole relationship between movies and music. Before him, scores often hid in the background like shy extras. After him? The music became a co-star. Plenty of later composers—yes, including the Hans Zimmers of the world—owe him a drink for kicking that door down.

That Star Wars score is so iconic that even someone who has never seen a single film can likely hum the main theme. But here’s the kicker: Williams isn’t a one-franchise wonder. The man has planted musical flags all over cinema history. Let’s run a quick highlight reel, shall we?

• 🦈 Jaws — two notes. TWO NOTES. He made the ocean terrifying forever.

• 🎩 Indiana Jones — the theme that makes you want to grab a fedora and punch a villain.

• 🦖 Jurassic Park — you can’t look at a dinosaur without hearing that swelling brass.

• 🪄 Harry Potter — he built the sound of Hogwarts before most of us even got our acceptance letters.

• 🪖 Saving Private Ryan — proof he can shatter your heart without a single laser blast.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Williams didn’t just write melodies; he built entire worlds. Take Hogwarts as an example. That magical, mischievous, slightly melancholic sound didn’t exist until Williams conjured it. Later composers added their own flourishes, sure, but they were decorating a cathedral he had already designed.

What gets me every time is his character work. Williams doesn’t just write themes; he writes psychological portraits. In Star Wars alone, you’ve got:

He does this for storylines too, not just people. A character can be happy in one scene and shattered in the next, and Williams will take the same musical DNA and twist it into something new. It’s like he’s fluent in a language the rest of us only feel.

Now, let’s talk hardware. Williams has five Academy Awards, and his 59 Oscar nominations tie him with Walt Disney. You read that right. The only reason he doesn’t have more is probably because the Academy needed to give someone else a chance. Here’s the Oscar haul:

• 🎻 Fiddler on the Roof

• 🦈 Jaws

• 🌌 Star Wars

• 🚲 E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial

• 🕯️ Schindler’s List

Schindler’s List still wrecks me, by the way. One minute I’m bobbing my head to the Indiana Jones theme, the next I’m staring at the wall questioning humanity while that violin weeps. That’s the Williams range in a nutshell.

Even as he has stepped back from major franchises—yes, he said goodbye to Star Wars, which felt like losing a family member—his hero themes remain unbeatable. No one, and I mean no one, writes that ‘here comes the hero’ swell like John Williams. It’s the reason you feel ten feet tall walking out of a theater.

So here’s the thing: in 2026, I’m not sad that Williams has slowed down. I’m grateful the man gave us five decades of music that made us laugh, cry, and believe a kid from Tatooine could save the galaxy. The baton may rest more often these days, but the magic? That’s never retiring.