Traditionally, debutante parties are meant to introduce young girls to polite society. But in Australian comedian Rebel Wilson’s raucous directorial debut, The Deep, there’s nothing like “polite society.” Wilson’s characters range from the crass to the downright offensive—particularly the ditzy beautician she portrays in a sassy, John Waters-style musical satire that pits progressive values against traditional showbiz at its most paternalistic.
It’s unfortunate that the film’s Toronto Film Festival premiere was overshadowed by the legal wrangling between Wilson and three of her producers, because “The Deb” succeeds. The project satirizes all sides while rewriting the rules of teen romance for the 21st century. From the start, the film is Hairspray meets High School Musical , with the elaborately crafted, radio-friendly opening song “FML” setting the tone for everything that follows (rhyming words, like “economy” and “problematic,” that you don’t usually hear on Broadway).
Set in the heart of the outback, where the good guys are decades behind the times, “The Deb” is a modern take on Aesop’s classic fable “The City Mouse and the Country Mouse.” After her latest protest gets her big-city cousin—and angry “cancellation pig”—Maeve Parker (Charlotte MacInnes) expelled from school, she is sent to the dusty, dead-end town of Denbourne.
There, Maeve is expected to fit in with her rural/socially outcast cousin Taylah Simpkins (Natalie Abbott), who is routinely bullied by the popular girls Annabelle (Stevie Jane), Danielle (Brianna Bishop), and Chantelle (Caris Oka), who call themselves the “Fairy Cups.” Stylishly dressed and always ready to TikTok, Maeve seems to have more in common with the social media-obsessed trio than her less-than-stylish cousin. However, Maeve instinctively sides with Taylah when her classmates try to humiliate her.
The Dunburn Debutante Ball is only weeks away, and Taylah—who has been anticipating her big day like girls raised on Disney fairy tales do for the day their prince will arrive—can’t find a date to save her life. To complicate matters, Maeve almost immediately catches the eye of Dusty (Costa D’Angelo), whose bobbed, “rebel without a cause” look suggests that Dunburn isn’t so out of touch with culture that she hasn’t heard of Timothée Chalamet.
Earlier, Maeve had said, “I think I could be the feminist voice of our generation,” and dismissed any attempts at chivalry, saying, “What makes you assume my birth sex and/or my sexual performance?” The ball operates on the basis that girls ask guys out, and once Dusty accepts her (casual but unwelcome) invitation, the only thing Maeve still considers “a problem” is finding someone to accompany Tayla. That and trying to maintain a united front against the Pixie Cups.
These three girls see the event as an opportunity to launch their careers as influencers; they're pressured to succeed by Annabelle's ambitious mother, Janet (Wilson), who runs a salon called Curl Up N Dye out of her garage. With her outrageous outfits (boots, feathered headdresses, denim skirt combos) and killer song (“Time to Get Ugly”), Wilson risks having her own movie hijacked. But then again, she's always the funniest thing on screen: a bad-tempered terrorist bent on bringing down Maeve.
To American audiences, who know Wilson from her breakout roles in Bridesmaids and Pitch Perfect , The Deb might seem like a coming-out party for her sexuality: a chance for the multi-talented actress to showcase her talents, both comedic and creative, in a whole new light. Australians, on the other hand, should be familiar with this side of Wilson, who launched her career in Australia in 2008 with the six-part musical comedy series Bogan Pride.
The screenplay is credited to Hannah Riley and Meg Washington, who wrote the musical from which “The Deb” is based. While their lyrics are smart and contemporary, this project is Wilson’s style. Her sensibility is grounded in sincerity but relies on raunchy, crass jokes to distract from messages of empowerment that might otherwise seem mundane. It works: It doesn’t feel preachy when Wilson brags about giving Hugh Jackman “back wax, cleavage, and a bag” (or waves a hair ribbon to prove it).
Janet is the polar opposite of Taylah's father (Shane Jacobson), a widowed farmer (and well-meaning mayor) trying to raise money to save his drought-stricken community. He doesn't understand the weight Taylah places on the event, but he appreciates the advice of a fierce seamstress (Strictly Ballroom star Tara Morris), who missed her high school dance and designs ridiculously elaborate dresses for the younger generation.
Audiences haven’t seen much of Wilson since her weight loss in 2020. That physical transformation makes her look even more fierce here, though it’s refreshing to see her continue to embrace all body types in this ensemble casting, especially in her choice of Abbott (who played the lead role in a touring production of “Muriel’s Wedding the Musical”). As Tayla, Abbott recalls Ricki Lake in “Hairspray”: Both remain irrepressibly upbeat, even when their peers try to shame them.
Tayla is so naive that it’s hard to follow the unconvincing plot twist that occurs about two-thirds of the way into the film, when Janet manages to drive a wedge between the cousins. But the film has at least a half-dozen characters who need enlightenment. The trick is to change their minds while allowing everyone to remain true to themselves—and have fun and be frustrated, too.
