The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

It is neither dumb nor smart enough to be fun, and spends way too much time with its boring human characters.

This is ultimately a movie about the very bad things that can happen when we don't address our unease, when we just try to brush it off, whether that's to fit in or to preserve our self-image.

The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

While Elton has done some great work in the past, and is great with comedy, its mixing it with a ham fisted overt pro refugee message that unfortunately lets this movie down. Sadly lots of aspects of it could have been great, but the exagerated grandad, right from the get go, sprouting two dimensional anti refugee diatrine... who then magically sees the error of his ways was a bit childish and seems to assume the audience is a bit daft and need their story told to them in obvious parables.Szubanksi, Caton, Mailman and Waters all do a sterling job... just a shame the movie hinges on the audience being told what most of us already know, and those that don't, certainly won't be changing their mind because of this.

I guess the most immediately noticeable thing about Three Summers is that its writer/director is Ben Elton. Seemingly, he has been living in Australia for some time and this is I guess his take on his adopted home. The set-up is quite good, with the action taking place over three summers at a music festival in Western Australia called Westival. While it has a romantic comedy as its main plot thread, it is essentially fairly plot-less and is much more a character-driven ensemble piece, which focuses on many Aussie stereotypes. As such, it mixes a lot of humour with serious social issues, such as racism.I have to say, I found this one to be a very enjoyable affair. There were enough characters and varied goings-on at the festival to ensure it always remained entertaining and if something isn't working so great then something else is sure to come along soon to take us in a different direction. Like most comedies, it is only sporadically laugh-out-loud funny but it was definitely funny reasonably often. I found Robert Sheehan's uptight Theremin player to be the most consistently funny element of the story. His rocky romance with the rather gorgeous Rebecca Breeds was well done too I thought. The film probably floundered most when it went for the serious stuff, such as racism and bigotry. It was a little heavy-handed and contrived to be honest but fair play for introducing a bit of social consciousness into the mix at least. The music on the other hand was a lot surer footed, with some particularly interesting folk-Theremin fusions - which is not the kind of thing you hear every day, lets be honest. All-in-all, I definitely would put this down as a very fun bit of Aussie comedy.

I loved this movie. Part of the reason I did was because my family were extras, or as Ben Elton calls us, Background Artistes. The movie is funny and yet provocative. It shows a lovely cross section of characters, and I'm betting you'll be able to relate to quite a few of them.

It is absurd that any filmmaker would try to snapshot an entire nation in one movie, but Three Summers (2017) comes very close to doing just that. Almost every social and political issue that is near and dear to the Australian heart is brought together in one big tent full of ethical potpourri with lashings of larrikin humour and subversive irreverence. What's not to enjoy?The structural frame that holds the film together is both elegant and contrived. Multiple story lines are interleaved across three successive years of 'Westival', a fictional country music festival in Western Australia. There is no plot line as such: it's more a montage of stand-up gags and music intended to reflect our changing social values over time, warts and all. Narrative continuity comes from following the romance between pretentious theremin player Roland (Robert Sheehan) and down-to-earth pub band fiddler Keevy (Rebecca Breeds). We meet a cross section of Aussie caricatures: festival radio announcer Queenie (Magda Szubanski) who doubles as narrator; a racist bigot (Michael Caton); an alcoholic father (John Waters); recidivist caravan dwellers; a cast of Indigenous and migrant identities; and a stone-faced security guard (Kate Box) who keeps stealing her scenes. Between them, they skip all too lightly across issues of race, class, colonialism, refugees, sexuality, musical culture, and national history.Few of these issues are inherently funny or lightweight and if the gags were read from script they would struggle to get a chuckle. But timing is everything and in the hands of this ensemble it is all great fun. The actors play to stereotype rather than well-developed characters, except for Rebecca Breeds whose role traverses a wide emotional terrain. The warm spot is the romance between Roland and Keevy, which is as rocky sweet as their music is brilliant. The filming is exuberantly colourful and lively, lifted by a score full of festival joy drawn from a variety of musical genres. The quirky humour works on visual irony, such as when Michael Caton ridicules Indigenous dancers because of their native adornments while he himself wears a comical Morris dancing costume. Amidst the self-deprecating sendups of real life there are many issues that prick our national conscience, such as our unresolved relationship to the Indigenous owners of the land we invaded and our treatment of refugees. It is implausible, however, to suggest that the three-festival timeframe is enough to see substantial changes in attitudes; die-hard racists do not become exemplars of inclusion that fast.Whatever faults one can find, none detract from the film's enjoyment for both Aussies and overseas audiences wanting to know us better. Good-natured and big-hearted gags are entertaining, but the film's bigger purpose is hidden inside the squirm-in-your-seat humour that holds up a mirror to the dark side of the Australian character.