A Diamond Of A Spy Movie: ‘D.E.B.S.’ Blu-ray Review

I don’t know if other movie fans feel this way, but sometimes I think my biggest blind spots are the decades when I was a kid. Watching Nickelodeon, not paying attention to what was in theaters unless it was rated PG or animated, it turns out I missed a lot of great movies (as a side note, it’s amazing how quickly you stop caring about ratings as an adult; I remember caring a lot as a kid, not because my parents were sticklers but because I was my own worst rule-following censorship board).

Now, though, some of the physical media releases and restorations I get the most excited about are indie films from the 1990s and early 2000s: Girls Town (1996, Film Movement), Just Another Girl on the I.R.T. (1992, Paramount Presents), The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995, Strand Releasing). Often they’re titles I didn’t know I needed in my life but they quickly earn pride of place on a shelf.

Which brings us to Angela Robinson‘s D.E.B.S. (2004), a film that feels like it wouldn’t have been out of place on the Disney Channel, circa Lizzie McGuire/Kim Possible, if it weren’t for the fact that D.E.B.S. is gloriously and completely gay. And not just gay: lesbians. That might be a silly way of putting it but the reality isn’t silly at all. Watching D.E.B.S. for the first time felt a lot like watching the first (and sadly now only) season of the TV version of A League of Their Own. If there aren’t enough queer stories being told in mainstream media, it still feels revolutionary to come across a TV show or film that centers lesbian characters.

Amy (Sarah Foster) is a D.E.B. (short for Discipline. Energy. Beauty.). Basically, thanks to an aptitude test hidden in the SAT, Amy has been chosen to attend an all-girls school for spies. Despite a perfect score, Amy’s not so sure she wants to be a spy. Her doubts are amplified when she runs into (literally) the notorious thief and criminal Lucy Diamond (Jordana Brewster). Suddenly Amy’s loyalties are being tested like never before, as this fun spy drama reveals itself to be a secret rom-com at heart.

The special effects are extremely early internet and the skirts on the D.E.B.S.’ uniforms are awfully short, but it doesn’t get much better than D.E.B.S., a film that doesn’t make a fuss about being female-centered — it just is. While there are a few male characters sprinkled in (and TV fans may recognize Geoff Stults (Enlisted) and Jimmi Simpson; one day Perpetual Grace, LTD will get the cult following it deserves), the film doesn’t make a point of establishing a male counterpart to the D.E.B.S. It’s never even spelled out that a guy couldn’t become a D.E.B. — maybe it’s just that none have qualified.

D.E.B.S. also doesn’t make a big deal out of the fact that, before meeting Lucy, Amy had been dating Stults’ character. At one point, one of the other D.E.B.S. brings this up and treats it like evidence that Amy couldn’t be romantically interested in Lucy. That, of course, is pure nonsense yet, whereas another film might’ve gotten hung up on this, or felt the need to have Amy state that she’s bi, D.E.B.S. just allows her to explore her feelings without putting labels on it.

If I had to make one criticism of D.E.B.S.: it’s better as a love story than as a story about friendship. Amy is part of a squad, yet while the cover would suggest that’s what the film’s about (and maybe that was intentional since, especially in the early 2000s, marketing a film as a gay would’ve probably been considered too risky or prevented it from getting a PG-13 rating), more could’ve been done to give those relationships weight. That’s kind of the point, though, too. Sometimes you get stuck in friend groups at school and it can be hard to change out once you start growing apart. I don’t know if that’s the story D.E.B.S. was trying to tell, but it’s one way of interpreting it.

All of the bonus features on Sony’s Blu-ray are carry overs from a now overpriced DVD, but at least D.E.B.S. was fairly well-treated at the time. There are two commentaries: a solo one with Robinson and a cast one with three of the four D.E.B.S. (Devon Aoki is absent) plus Brewster. The trouble with the cast one — or a problem I had with it — was telling the different voices apart.

However, anytime a director starts their commentary by expressing how much they’ve gotten out of commentaries you’re pretty much set for a good time. I especially appreciated Robinson’s willingness to point out flaws that I know, at least personally, I would’ve never noticed, like some wrinkled wallpaper. Sure, you can see that it’s wrinkled after Robinson points it out but it’s the kind of detail you can totally imagine an artist obsessing over and yet it doesn’t stick out unless you’re looking for it. The fact that it bugs Robinson speaks to how much she cares (and while Robinson has gone on to direct other movies and TV, it’s a crime that her career hasn’t exploded).

The best extra is a featurette called “Infiltrating D.E.B.S.,” where Robinson goes over how the movie started out as a comic and then a short (it’s a shame the original short isn’t included). There are also some deleted scenes, including a different cut of a scene where the D.E.B.S. find out about Amy and Lucy that Robinson brings up in the commentary, and something called an animatic that needs more context: I think it’s supposed to be an early storyboard from the short or the movie.

D.E.B.S. is available on Blu-ray from Sony Pictures and to purchase from Movie Zyng.