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Such a frustrating disappointment

It was OK. I don't see why everyone loves it so much. It wasn't very smart or deep or well-directed.

The film may be flawed, but its message is not.

Blistering performances.

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.

Oh dear. That this was written and directed by someone - Ben Elton - that I used to love and admire so much is bitterly disappointing. It has all the hallmarks of a twee, naive Australian comedy that can be done entertainingly - witness "The Castle" or "Muriel's Wedding" - but is more often than not a cringe-worthy embarrassment filled with poor dialogue, manufactured awkward script and atrocious acting.Ben Elton is for me the man who saved Blackadder - his input into Series 2 lifted the show and who displayed socially progressive views early in his career, but this bloated, embarrassing thief of time is indicative of how far Elton has fallen. I can't fault the actors: they had such appalling dialogue I swear I could see in their eyes a fear and horror that their careers could be over as the words left their lips.I am fully supportive of the themes in the film - the need for kindness and compassion in society, taking care of refugees and supporting Aboriginal land rights but the absolute lack of subtlety and the preaching smarmy way these things were delivered made me recoil.

I loved this movie! I loved the romance and the fact that it was set at the festival over 3 years. That was quite different. I loved the key messages about diversity in the community and celebrating our differences.

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.