I watched the movie Nonnas so you don't have to

A short review of the film and its portraiture of the Italian grandma

---

Dear reader,

I watched the film Nonnas a few nights ago, which debuted on Netflix on May 9 this month. As this blog is entitled La Nonna Vita, I felt compelled to watch it and see how the film would portray the figure of the nonna.

TL;DR: I wouldn’t watch Nonnas again, and I don’t recommend it. The reasons why may surprise you.

Basic plot: a missed opportunity

The story follows Joe, played by Vince Vaughn, who grows up in a second-generation Italian household. Joe has fond memories of his mother and grandmother, Maria and Domenica, in the kitchen. One flashback shows Nonna Domenica dipping her wooden spoon into a massive pot and offering young Joe a taste of her “Sunday gravy,” also known as “Bolognese” if you are American. Joe’s grandmother’s Sunday gravy is a slow-cooked meat and tomato ragù, a dish Italian Americans typically reserved for Sunday meals due to the lengthy cooking time.

Flash forward to a middle-aged Joe who is mourning the loss of his mother, Maria. After her funeral, Joe feels compelled to relive his childhood food memories by opening a restaurant in Staten Island, with a gaggle of local grandmothers as the chefs. He names the restaurant Enoteca Maria, in honor of his late mother.

While I like the plot concept (it’s actually inspired by a real-life restaurant in Staten Island that is run by nonnas), the execution of the movie was where it fell apart for me. The plot stalls due to an overemphasis on Joe’s poor business decisions, leaving little room to develop the nonnas’ characters and celebrate the food they’re cooking.

Not enough nonna

More than half of the movie focuses on too-much-Mr.-Nice-Guy Joe making terrible business decisions. The scenes of Joe floundering while juggling a full-time job at the MTA and opening a restaurant are uncomfortable to watch. Since so much film real estate is dedicated to Joe’s business woes, we barely have a chance to meet the nonnas, who you would think would be central to the screenplay. What we do learn about the nonnas is surface-level and does not give much soul to the movie.

We learn the most about Gia, the nonna played by Susan Sarandon. Gia was a friend of Joe’s mother, Maria, and owns her own hair salon. After undergoing a double mastectomy with reconstructive surgery (Gia’s boobs practically have their own storyline in this movie), she is committed to living her life to the fullest, underscored by her cheetah print get-ups. Gia is responsible for making the desserts at Enoteca Maria, though we barely get to see them, and she is the one who advises Joe when Enoteca Maria is on the brink of closure. Gia has the most substantial plotline; the other nonnas, unfortunately, feel like afterthoughts.

Roberta from Sicily (played by Lorraine Bracco) is a Sicilian nonna whose character stands out as particularly inauthentic. Her raspy voice, grey wig, and cane prop come across as though she is cosplaying as a grandma. Surprising, as Lorraine Bracco starred in some of the best NY-gangster dramas of all time, The Sopranos and Goodfellas. A third nonna, Teresa (Talia Shire), is a former nun who left the convent due to her sapphic desires. We know almost nothing about the fourth nonna, Antonella (Brenda Vaccaro), who seems to exist only in service to the plot. All we know is that Antonella is originally from Bologna, and her niece, Olivia (Linda Cardellini), plays Joe’s love interest.

Instead of focusing so much on Joe, I would have loved to see more character development dedicated to the four nonnas. Flashbacks into the women’s early lives would have provided more context about who they are, where they came from, and insights into why they chose certain dishes for Enoteca Maria. Without these details, the nonne become completely one-dimensional, a shame.

Real-life nonna (my mom) expressing more personality than the characters in Nonnas combined.

For comparison, another Netflix show that accomplishes this storytelling well is Chef’s Table: Legends, which spotlights legendary chefs like Alice Waters and José Andrés. The show teases out specific moments from these chefs’ early lives that inspired some of their most renowned dishes, and it does so in a way that makes you hungry and interested to learn more. Strangely, there are very few appetizing cooking and food shots in Nonnas, which feels like an additional missed opportunity.

Final dish

Unfortunately, I finished the movie Nonnas with no appetite. The most powerful moment in the film comes at the very end, when Joe opens an envelope left to him by his late mother. The envelope contains all of her recipes scribbled down on various bits of paper, including the one for Sunday gravy.

This scene taps into the universal human connection between food, memory, and loss. It reminds us of how a recipe or dish can transport us back to a specific moment in time, conjuring memories of a loved one. Food memories hold a visceral nostalgia in a way that photographs and other memorabilia cannot. We all have our version of Sunday gravy in our own families. I wish that Nonnas had played into these sensibilities more.

I’m interested to hear from you: what is your family’s version of “Sunday gravy”?

- Emma from La Nonna Vita