Oz comedy star Rebel Wilson’s directorial debut is a musical delight despite its legal troubles
Toe-tapping and tractors: Natalie Abbott is magnetic as the cheerful Taylah Simpkins. Photo / Supplied
The Deb, directed by Rebel Wilson, is in cinemas now.
Casting a bunch of talented young Aussie women who sing their lungs out in terrifically assured performances, The Deb is a full-circle moment for one-time Pitch Perfect breakout star Rebel Wilson, as her 2023-shot directorial debut finally gets its cinema release after a bitter legal battle between Wilson and its producers.
Those troubles might have signalled the film is a mess. But it’s actually a hugely entertaining screen adaptation of a 2022 stage musical that was written by Hannah Reilly and Meg Washington after they won a comedy-writing scholarship set up by Wilson. Harking back to great 90s Aussie comedies The Castle and Muriel’s Wedding, The Deb pulls a timeless teenage dilemma – how to be popular and/or get a boyfriend – firmly into the 21st century.
Cheerfully dumpy farm girl Taylah Simpkins (a magnetic Natalie Abbott) lives with her widowed dad in the drought-stricken country town of Dunburn, when her snobby city cousin Maeve (Charlotte MacInnes, reprising her role from the original stage show) is forced to come to stay. Glamorous feminist Maeve is appalled at Taylah’s gormless excitement about the town’s annual debutante ball, “a heteronormative shit-show”, where the hitherto rough-as-guts country lasses don fancy frocks to come out to society.
But having a savvy city girl in your corner may help Taylah reach her dream, while everyone learns they mustn’t judge a book by its cover.
The script throws up the complex and conflicting values of navigating today’s Gen Z landscape – where being a strong feminist can mean flashing your boobs in school assembly to protest “slut-shaming”, but having a pic of your boobs shared on social media is tantamount to sexual abuse.
It sends up rural Antipodean male culture, albeit with a bit of genre-appropriate hyperbole. And while some silly scenes don’t quite land, any faults are mitigated by the cast’s super-fun performances and fantastic singing.
A cameo by the late Julian McMahon as the obnoxious prime minister is unexpectedly moving (especially given his real-life father, William, was briefly Australian PM), as is the nose-tapping casting of Tara Morice (who starred in Strictly Ballroom) as spinster Shell.
The Deb’s original songs may not be for everyone (the film kicks off with the rousing Fuck My Life as private schoolgirls protest their existential poverty), but I found them catchy and foot-tappy; it all feels like a pretty good approximation of life’s travails for the youth of today.
Rating out of five: ★★★★