Three Summers (2017)

Three Summers is special because it bottles the giddy, sunburnt magic of a great music festival and turns it into a warm, witty celebration of community—“Australia in a tent,” as its own exuberant narrator puts it. Set across a few West Australian summers at the fictional Westival, it lets romance, backstage mishaps, and everyday squabbles ripple through a crowd of characters who feel like people you’ve met (or might want to). The tone is buoyant and affectionate, with humor that comes from observation rather than cruelty, and it manages to nod at contemporary issues without losing its feel-good pulse. If you’re after a sharp-edged satire, this may be too gentle, but if you want a charming, delightful comedy that leaves you smiling, it’s an easy yes.

Three Summers is clearly aiming for a warm, ensemble-style Aussie comedy that captures the messy charm of a rural folk festival while weaving in timely social issues and a young romance. The problem is it often plays like a well-meaning pamphlet dressed up as a movie: the dialogue can be stiff, the jokes don’t reliably land, and the story beats feel familiar rather than fresh. If you’re sensitive to heavy-handed messaging or secondhand embarrassment, this one may test your patience more than it rewards it. That said, if you enjoy festival vibes, a broad cast of characters, and you don’t mind sincerity outweighing sharp comedy, you might still find it mildly pleasant in places.