The era of New Hollywood brought so many exciting and revolutionary changes to the film industry, and one of my personal favourite developments of this more laissez-faire approach to filmmaking was the ability for stories to be a lot darker than they ever were before. There were still standards, and directors and writers were still expected to maintain some degree of moral integrity, but for the most part, we saw some brilliantly subversive works emerge during this period, darkly comical satires and bleak genre films that pushed the boundaries of the medium in unexpected but ingenious directions. Something for Everyone came about towards the beginning of this movement, with the story of an ambitious young upstart in post-war Austria finagling his way into the household of a wealthy dowager, and by extension the highest echelons of society, being the perfect opportunity to explore some themes that had been subjected to censorship and needless criticism in the past. Directed by the legendary theatre impresario Harold Prince (who had already been at the helm of some of the greatest Broadway productions in history), an who was making his directorial debut with this adaptation of the novel The Cook by Harry Kressing, the film is a riveting and expansive examination of society as seen through the eyes of someone who has existed on the outskirts for far too long, and has decided that he will make his way into the upper-rungs of the social class that has so actively rejected people like him, by any means necessary, not bothering to give a second thought to the victims of what he sees as a crusade against the immorality and hedonistic excess of the wealthy, only to find that he becomes embroiled in that same temptation for wealth, turning into the very kind of person he actively fought against. There isn’t any prospect of ethical consumption under capitalism, and even in a relatively detached portrayal of the European elite who reside in their mountainous manors, this widely-circulated concept remains relevant and profoundly impactful in several ways.

In recent years, there has been a growing sentiment where artists actively express their disdain for the wealthy class, with resounding cries of “eat the rich” and anti-capitalistic statements never being more relevant than they are today. However, as Something for Everyone demonstrates, this is not a new perspective, and one that has existed in art for much longer than many of us may think, with satirists being brutal in their earnest deconstructions of the elite, whether it be questioning the use of the grotesque amount of wealth many possess, or pondering why we live in a world where the rich only get richer, without the same happening to those in the economic groups below them. These ideas are very important to any film about the rich, even if it doesn’t directly discuss them, which normally occurs when it is a period piece or one that is intentionally detaching itself from reality as an artistic choice. Something for Everyone has many brilliant ideas, and it smartly frames the story around the fact that we all ultimately aspire to be royalty when we are young – it’s a credit to the fairytales we were all raised on that we genuinely think there is merit in being a prince or princess, our younger selves not realizing the very clear imperial mentality that comes with any kind of royalty (which is oddly something that doesn’t always perish with age – there are still people who view monarchies as relevant, even well into adulthood) – and as the film progresses, we see the story take many dark turns, looking at the darker side of the aristocracy, which is almost uniformly viewed as an outdated, destructive force that is beyond irrelevant, but yet remains deeply respected by those who can’t quite grasp the idea that the landed gentry that doesn’t have to ever do a hard day’s work is not aspirational, but rather quite pitiful, since they have everything handed to them. As a result, it only takes one shrewd and courageous soul to infiltrate the system and destroy it from within, which is the main theme that propels this film and makes it so entertaining – it is a dark satire not about standing on the outside and criticizing those who portray themselves as untouchable, but rather entering the system and helping it rot from within, an inevitable and often quite beautiful process.

One of the signs of a great actor is not only being able to play a diverse range of roles but being thoroughly convincing in all of them, almost to the point where they take on a chameleonic identity. Dame Angela Lansbury defined the concept of being a larger-than-life performer, and thus she was rarely able to shed the persona that she had cultivated over a career that spanned over eight decades. However, she certainly never declined the opportunity to try something new. It has always been immensely amusing that in only a year, she made Something for Everyone and Bedknobs and Broomsticks, two performances that could not be more different – one is a colourful, eccentric film set in a fantasy world filled with bizarre characters and a strange sense of humour, and the other is a live-action Disney film – and this exact kind of contrast is exactly why she is the main attraction of this film. She disappears into the role, and it is almost bewildering to consider how deep she is willing to go to bring this character to life, especially since (on a purely conceptual level), Countess von Ornstein is not the most captivating character, but instead a reactionary that exists to just represent the old guard, rather than getting anything particularly interesting on her own. Any middle-aged actress who could capture a distinctive sense of patrician sophistication could have played this role to a decent degree. Yet, it’s Lansbury who makes it an unforgettable experience – she is particularly adept at balancing eccentric comedy and downbeat pathos, which is one of the more intriguing aspects of the character, especially in the moments where she is reflecting on the past and trying to atone for her contribution to the needless excess of the upper-class – she manages to make every moment both funny and heartbreaking, and while she’s not the villain of the film (in fact, she’s possibly the only character with a sense of morality), to portray her as this out of touch, a hopelessly pedantic remnant of the past was an exceptionally good decision, and one that comes down to casting Lansbury, who is so good that not even Michael York (for whom Something for Everyone was designed as a starring vehicle) makes much of an impression, despite being exceptionally good in his own right. It’s only natural that we’d be most allured to the prospect of seeing a darker version of the cherished Dame Lansbury, and while she doesn’t hit the same bleak notes as The Manchurian Candidate (the gold standard for cinematic villainy), she does effectively manage to create something compelling and complex with very limited space.

Many may consider Something for Everyone to be an exercise in poor taste – and it is indeed a film that establishes a bold stance on several issues, taking advantage of the more liberal state of the film industry to make some daring proclamations, as well as exploring concepts that were quite revolutionary in terms of a major Hollywood production. It is undeniably quite divisive, and its portrayal of gender issues and homosexuality has suitably ruffled a few feathers, perhaps unintentionally. However, this is part of the charm of the film – Prince was known to push the envelope with many of his stage shows, perhaps not being a provocateur in the traditional sense, but certainly not adhering to the rules in a way that feels like he is guided by conventions. There is something so compelling about an operatic deconstruction of sexuality, gender and society that doesn’t ever play it safe, but instead takes a more provocative stance. It may have some elements that are slightly dated (the main character is portrayed as a maniacal imp that seduces members of the opposite sex as a way of taking advantage of them both, rather than looking at the concept of pansexual desire or sexual fluidity, in particular, feels quite misguided, especially since the character of Konrad could have been doubly as fascinating had they allowed him to develop into this identity), but it mostly works because of the shock value. This isn’t quite on the level of John Waters or even Fellini in terms of ribald satire based around desire and its relationship with broader social ideas, but it does have enough captivating charm all on its own to be a great work, granted we can look at Something for Everyone for what it is, appreciating its darker elements while also acknowledging that this is by no means a perfect film and that some of its more questionable content may not sit well with modern viewers, but still served the purpose of creatively subverting expectations and giving audiences a very different set of insights into the daily trials and tribulations of the people who we view as elite based on their social status, but who are perhaps the most morally corrupt of us all.

Darkly satirical with jagged edges that can sometimes be quite painful in ways that the unsuspecting viewer may not expect, Something for Everyone is a challenging film, but one that uses its dark sense of humour and penchant for the absurd to its benefit. Prince was not actively seeking out another career as a film director (this was his debut, and he would only direct one more film a few years later, an adaptation of A Little Night Music, which was inarguably far closer to his wheelhouse, considering it is based on a Broadway show, the creation of which he was personally involved), but he does have a great eye for detail and a terrific set of directorial skills that help him effectively shape this film and give it a sense of complexity that would be otherwise lost in the hands of someone who didn’t see the blatant and forthright absurdity that propels this film and gives it such a distinctly bizarre tone. It doesn’t always deliver on the enormous promise of its premise, and it sometimes feels as if it is forcing the humour slightly too much, which is not something that should ever be encouraged if the payoff isn’t going to be worth it. Mercifully, this film maintains a consistent tone and remains relatively compelling throughout, only faltering in a few places, which is easily rectified by some of the stronger elements, such as excellent performances and razor-sharp writing. Something for Everyone is far from perfect, and in comparison to some of the other more notable satires from this year, it can feel quite underwhelming. However, the sense of deeply unpleasant, meandering complexity is entirely intentional, with the film dedicated a solid amount of time to exploring its primary themes in a way that is witty, insightful and worth our time, which is all any satire should aspire to achieve. It’s not a film immune to criticism, but its strengths outweigh its flaws, and make Something for Everyone an unexpected delight.