Homefront stories during wartime are bound to certain conventions, and one of the delights of Summerland is how it flouts those conventions.  Another is the manner of British citizenry, which is realistic and believable in every instance.  It is certainly not flattering — and yet, their enduring spirit is recognized and acknowledged.  It is a quiet film of modest ambition which fulfills its premise and delivers a complex, satisfying tale regarding suffering and redemption.

Jessica Swale’s story follows graduate student Alice (Gemma Arterton), who is so busy writing her thesis on folklore origination that she doesn’t have time for the kids of the small British hamlet where she resides teasing her as a witch.  Alice’s focus, however, is broken when she is pressured into taking care of a young refugee from London named Frank (Lucas Bond).  Their relationship, which begins very badly, eventually forms a bond which the war can never sever, and leads to epiphanies for both of them.

Swale’s script is uncompromising in its characterization of Alice, which is so antisocial that it is hard to blame the local boys from taunting her.  Alice even affronts the town’s adults (Tom Courtenay among them; he is excellent, as always).  Yet her inevitable mellowing with Frank is handled beautifully, and comprises the soul of the story.  Alice still retains her hard inner core, and the reason for that coldness is gradually revealed as well, leading to a couple of surprising revelations that only increase the story’s effectiveness.  And while this is certainly a character study, it also contains truths that anyone watching can benefit from being reminded about.

“Little” movies like this come and go with little fanfare.  They are not constructed with multi-million dollar budgets and don’t receive much of any publicity.  But they are not “little” in any dramatic capacity, and are more worthy of seeking out than a great many Hollywood blockbusters.  I highly recommend this movie for its interesting story, its excellent acting, its satisfying conclusion and, most of all, the feeling that a well-told story can provide.  ☆ ☆ ☆.