The Deb

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Date Reviewed: 09/04/2026

Though a little rough around the edges and far from a cinematic masterpiece, The Deb remains entertaining throughout its two‑hour runtime and delivers some great song‑and‑dance numbers right from the word go.

Maeve (Charlotte MacInnes) is a wealthy, headstrong teenager determined to challenge society’s rules, the patriarchy, and her mother—who also happens to be the principal of her elite school. After one protest too many, she’s banished to the country to stay with her cousin and uncle.

Taylor (Natalie Abbott), the country cousin, is a kind but socially awkward teen navigating life in drought‑stricken Dunburn with her father, Rick (Shane Jacobson), the town’s mayor. Still grieving her mother’s death, Taylor has pinned her hopes on the upcoming debutante ball—a night she has dreamed about for years. Unfortunately, she lacks a partner, and the local mean girls are determined to make her life miserable.

Written by Australian comedy writer Hannah Reilly and musician Meg Washington, the musical first enjoyed a successful theatre run in 2022. Rebel Wilson makes her feature‑film directing debut with this movie adaptation and also appears as Janette, the owner of Curl Up and Dye, the town’s beauty salon. The film’s release was delayed for several years due to ongoing legal issues.

The cast is a real highlight. MacInnes and Abbott are both excellent, and Jacobson is well cast and entirely believable. Tara Morice brings warmth and humour to Shell, the spinster who never attended her own deb ball but now shepherds each new group of debs and their partners—while quietly carrying a torch for widower Rick. Morice, of course, was BAFTA‑nominated for her role in Baz Luhrmann’s similarly quirky 1992 film Strictly Ballroom. 

Stevie Jean is a standout as Annabelle, Janette's teenage daughter and mean girl, with a magical singing voice, and Scarlett Crabtree is delightfully quirky as Annabelle’s koala‑identifying little sister. Costa D’Angelo is pitch‑perfect as Maeve’s dreamy love interest, and Sam Simmons adds a wonderfully odd touch as the hay‑bale‑riding police officer. Steph Tisdell, as Dimity, the mayor’s assistant, is larger than life—her comedic timing lands every time.

I did find Wilson’s Janette somewhat grating and too reminiscent of some of her previous screen personas, the character had the potential to be much more.

Anyone who has spent time in a small country town will recognise the landscape and the characters—some fondly, others less so. The film touches on a range of social issues, including body image, bullying, friendship, and loyalty, offering moments of reflection amid the high‑energy musical performances.

I don’t think my mum would enjoy this movie—there’s too much bad language for her taste—but she would very much applaud the growing self‑awareness of both Maeve and Taylor, and the film’s underlying message that human connection matters, and that traditions, for all their flaws, still have the power to bring communities together.

Reviewed by Deb Secombe