I got a call from my girlfriend. "Did you see it?" I immediately knew what she meant. It was April 9th, the day the trailer for Nonnas dropped.
You need to understand the hype. In my house, movies about a group of old ladies going on an adventure are the epitome of cinema. There was a time when I used to be embarrassed by it, but I've learned to embrace my love for these movies (maybe even films?).
And the trailer? Amazing.
Four older ladies. This is, by far, the optimal number of old ladies the subgenre demands. They each represent a different outlook on family, life, memory, death. Like a Cartesian plane where axes of "zest for life" and "fond memories" intersect, the four ladies configuration gives these films the best chance to explore every combination. And the math works, trust me!
Like any great masterpiece, the trailer innovates. It tells us Nonnas is not only about the titular grandmas, it's about Vince Vaughn. A bold addition to the beloved family recipe that is this subgenre. Would it work, though? I'd have to wait.
With this, I hope you understand that Nonnas is my Avengers. Had it been released in theaters, I would've gone dressed like an Italian grandmother. So, I counted the days. I avoided early reviews, social media posts, my own grandmother, in case she would somehow spoil it for me.
The day finally came. May 9th. I turned off the lights, opened a bottle of wine, prepared a cheese platter, and got ready to shut off my brain and open my heart.
Ready-made nostalgia
The opening sequence of Nonnas is nostalgia in a can. A young boy during a big family get-together goes out to buy bread and comes back to his grandmother and mother cooking in the kitchen. We get a glimpse of the dishes they're making. I don't know any of them, but I'd try anything and ask for seconds. We see his family eating, drinking, celebrating, having a great time. You get the feeling of having been there once, maybe many years ago, but you remember.
This opening scene takes us back to that famous madeleine and tea passage in Proust's Rememberance of Things Past. In the novel, the narrator tries a madeleine soaked in tea, and suddenly long-forgotten childhood memories come rushing back to him (It's a lot nicer and deeper when Proust says it). There's something similar here, that involuntary memory that gets triggered by pictures of food that I've never even tasted. And you get that in two hours, not in a thousand pages like with Proust.
Nonnas does all the heavy lifting so that those memories flow effortlessly. Yes, it's easy to see through it, it's not subtle and you know you're being manipulated, but these are the moments that work best in the film.
After that, we jump into the present day. That young boy is now Joe (Vince Vaughn) at his mother's funeral. He's got a great support network, but it's pretty clear he's lost without her. There's a great scene after everyone leaves, he has tons of casseroles made for him, but he prefers to cook a meal for himself from scratch. The true meaning of comfort food. Yes, very sentimental, but that's the heart of this movie, the scene that drives it.
This scene also highlights another aspect: the voluntary memory. Unlike its counterpart, these recollections are consciously looked for. Joe tries to emulate his mother's cooking because he misses her, but he can't quite get there. It's a sterile way to remember, it's tied to what Joe feels and thinks in that moment, not to what can unexpectedly trigger a memory.
Nonnas constantly plays with these ways of remembering, and ties them to grief. Involuntary memory, the one triggered by Proust's madeleine, is the one triggered by living, by experiencing new things and rediscovering lost memories. On the other hand, the voluntary memory, the one Joe tries to force out of his stale food, is the one that anchors you and doesn't let you move on.
You know what you're getting, and that's a good thing
There's no point spoiling the movie, you already know what's going to happen. It's predictable in the same way that eating your mother's cooking is predictable. It's familiar and inviting, and sometimes that's all you need.

Joe has some money from his mother's life insurance, so he bets it all on family. Without giving it much thought, he opens a restaurant where old ladies do the cooking with their own family recipes. This lack of planning will keep coming back to bite him in the ass.
But even when things get rough, this is still a feel-good movie. Yes, Joe is losing all his money and might have to close the restaurant, but he created a community around him, he made his mother proud, he found love. What I'm trying to say is that, if you try watching this movie, they'll probably be bittersweet tears, never sad.
Also, like the Avengers, Joe must assemble a team. In this case, he puts an add on Craiglist (yes, a nonna makes the joke you're thinking about, "Who's Craig?"), and we get our four old ladies.
If you're a Marvel fan, you clap when Hulk smashes Loki. I clap when the four nonnas get drunk together and talk about the bittersweet curveballs life throws at them. They're grateful they met the love of their lives, and accept being alone after they're gone. Or maybe it's the opposite, they're grateful for never settling down, for being independent and living life their way. That's probably the best scene in Nonnas. Talia Shire, Susan Sarandon, Lorraine Bracco and Brenda Vaccaro being grateful for what they've had and what they've lost.
And adding Vince Vaughn to the mix? Chef's kiss. He brings the right amount of charisma and vulnerability that these subgenre thrives on. You already know there's gonna be a scene where he uses his charm to try and convince someone, and that he's not gonna get it. And you already know it's gonna be great.
The film's not perfect. There were some parts where I thought the film was really pushing it with the Vince Vaughn missing his mom's angle. Like, it was borderline awkward and handled like he had a crush on her. It's hard to explain, but the editing every time they look at each other makes it seem like they're in love. It's a stretch to read that much into it, but it's definitely there.
Also, unlike other films in the genre, the zaniness is dialed down. For instance, at one point, the nonnas cause a fire in the restaurant after one of them tries to cook her famous capuzelle (apparently, a sheep's head filled with potato and other stuff). This leads to the firefighters showing up, and Joe getting a fine. However, if Jane Fonda and Lilly Tomlin had been in the kitchen, the whole place would've burned down and Jane would've ended hooking up with the captain. However, for neofites of the genre, this is probably the right choice.
Life after Nonnas
The end credits show little videos of the actual Joe, the restaurants, and the nonnas. The movie is, after all, based on a real story. They look like nice people, and the restaurant seems to be pretty good, but they're not the nonnas I fell in love with.
What happens after Nonnas? Do I call my grandma? How could I call her after watching that? The one thing I clearly remember her cooking for me was a cold, hard piece of bread with butter and sugar. It's not like it happened once, that's her signature dish. But I thought of her, the movie unlocked that memory that was buried deep in me. Maybe I should call her, ask her for the recipe...
Nonnas is not cerebral in any way, but it makes us nostalgic for something we never had, it makes us feel something, and not all movies do, not even Cinema with capital C.
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