For Joe Scaravella, food means family.
Growing up in an Italian family in Brooklyn, the feasts that his family and friends would prepare—and share—were more than just meals. They were expressions of love. Of heritage.
And no one’s food had a greater impact on Joe than that of his mother and nonna (an Italian term for “grandmother”). As a boy, he would marvel as his nonna made her famous Sunday gravy. And when he would taste it—perfetto! Nothing felt more like home.
Joe’s childhood was a time of full houses, full hearts and (of course) full stomachs.
But 40 years later, things have changed.
Joe’s mother just passed away after a long illness. He lost his nonna some time before that. He has no wife, no children with which to share a family meal. His home, once so full, now feels very empty.
His lifelong friend, Bruno, is worried about him. He encourages Joe to do something for himself with the money his mother left him. It doesn’t take long for Joe to figure out what that might be.
He’s going to open a restaurant, in honor of his mother and his nonna.
Bruno is doubtful. Restaurants are risky ventures, and Joe doesn’t know the first thing about starting, let alone operating, one. And Joe is no professional cook. Who’s he going to hire as his chefs?
That’s easy, Joe says, he knows exactly who he wants to cook at his restaurant: Nonnas. Italian grandmothers.
They’ll bring the best of their own family recipes to make at the restaurant. The community can gather to enjoy their heartfelt meals. And, ultimately, Joe hopes, food will mean family again.
Nonnas carries a beautiful pro-family message throughout the film—for both the family you are born into and the one you choose. People frequently express love and appreciation for their family members, especially parents and grandparents. Joe had a special relationship with his mother and grandmother, and he feels connected to them through their family recipes: “As long as I have their food, I have them,” he says. In a similar way, Bruno honors his late father’s memory by caring for a car that they used to work on together.
When Joe starts his restaurant, he recruits a crew of nonnas to be his chefs. Most of these women feel marginalized or forgotten in their elder years, and the restaurant becomes a source of purpose and pride for them as they bond with Joe and each other. Joe treats these ladies with patience and respect, even when their antics land the restaurant in hot water. By the end of the film, Joe and the nonnas consider themselves family and improve each other’s lives in significant ways.
Bruno is a true friend who makes sacrifices to help Joe achieve his dream. Olivia, Joe’s high school sweetheart, gets involved with the restaurant and is critical to its success. Gia, a stylist, gives her fellow nonnas makeovers to help them feel beautiful. A woman expresses regret for her “strong” parenting style, which has led to estrangement with her adult children; she eventually reaches out to reconcile with them. We hear that an older woman cared for a young widow in her grief.
One of the nonnas, Teresa, is a retired nun who left her convent. (More on that below.) Teresa says she felt God calling her to come cook at Joe’s restaurant. In a time of need, she asks for intercession from St. Padre Pio, crossing herself, and concluding her prayer with a Trinitarian phrase. She tells another person, “To forgive is divine.”
Joe grew up in a deeply Catholic community. A shopkeeper tells a young Joe to say the Rosary. We see a statue of the Virgin Mary. A cross hangs on a wall, and a few women wear cross necklaces. Someone talks about an old restaurant being a place where his community celebrated baptisms and other events. When Joe tries to convince one of the nonnas to join his restaurant, she says, “[Are] you using Catholic guilt on me?” A priest mingles with mourners after a funeral.
Teresa explains that the reason why she left her convent was that she fell in love with another woman. When asked what happened, she replies, “It was a sin. Nothing happened.” Yet she also adds, “It’s not easy to live in a world that rejects who you are.”
Gia says she doesn’t care for the idea of monogamy, labeling it as “boring.” She wears a lot of revealing tops throughout the film and a few of the other nonnas comment on her chest size. One asks if her breasts are real; Gia says they are not and encourages the woman to feel them.
Joe was supposed to take Olivia to prom when they were in high school, but he stood her up. After reconnecting with her, he tries to recreate a prom experience as a romantic gesture. He is clearly interested in Olivia but notices she is wearing a wedding ring. (Her husband has passed, but she explains at the time that she is not yet ready to move on.) Later, one of the nonnas encourages Joe to “make a move” with Olivia.
Bruno’s wife slips off the straps of her top to tan. When her husband sees this, he jokingly asks if she’s “giving the neighborhood a show.” People kiss. Some women wear low-cut tops and tight pants. A woman’s attractiveness is discussed. A man brings a woman flowers.
Much of the story involves grieving the loss of loved ones, and several characters have deceased family members.
An oven fire breaks out in the restaurant, but it’s quickly extinguished. A woman in an assisted-living center throws pasta at a cook. He responds, “I want to kill you.” Someone hits a man with her purse a few times.
God’s name is abused nearly 15 times, paired once with “d—.” The name of Jesus is taken in vain once. We hear six uses of “h—,” two of “d—” and one “a–.” Someone is called a “crazy son of a saint,” and the Yiddish term “putz” is used. Another person is referred to as the devil, and we hear someone say “sucks.”
Additionally, there are frequent uses of coarse Italian words, including culo, stronzo and puttana—the equivalents of “a–,” “a–hole,” and “wh-re” in English.
If people are eating in Nonnas, it’s likely that a glass of wine is close at hand. People eat a lot in this film, so we see a fair bit of drinking, too. Joe toasts his mother’s memory with a drink after her funeral. The nonnas get drunk on Limoncello the night before the restaurant’s grand opening.
Someone pours alcohol into punch. A woman mentions a hangover. People are asked if they’ve had their “meds” for the day. Song lyrics mention smoking and alcohol.
Two of the nonnas have a rocky start to their relationship, each insulting the other’s ancestral region of Italy. We learn that Gia had a double mastectomy before receiving breast implants. A woman says she took a “water pill” and tells Joe that the restaurant bathroom “better be working.” People argue. A city inspector is revealed to be corrupt. Coworkers lie to cover for Joe.
“Food is love.”
That’s how Joe describes it. He grew up in a family where a lot of love was communicated through the meals that were made and shared. As his own nonna would say, you’ve got to put your heart into the food.
A meal can be a special thing. It can bring comfort. Stir up memories. Bridge divides. Build community.
That’s what Nonnas shows us. The film is a love letter to Italian food and heritage, and to the women who are often so critical to creating community through the gift of a meal: the nonnas, the grandmothers. Speaking for myself, I have many special memories at my grandma’s house, squeezing around a table packed with family members, sharing laughter and a heart-made meal.
There are some notable issues that prevent Nonnas from being a perfect spread. There’s a reference to a same-sex attraction as well as some suggestive dialogue. Coarse language (in both English and Italian) is present. And alcohol is a frequent companion to the many meals we see onscreen—and a few characters drink to excess.
These concerns tap the cautionary brakes for younger viewers. But I don’t think they ultimately overshadow the film’s redemptive elements for more mature folks. Nonnas is a charming tale of food, fellowship and the love of family that makes for a fine morsel.
Bret loves a good story—be it a movie, show, or video game—and enjoys geeking out about things like plot and story structure. He has a blast reading and writing fiction and has penned several short stories and screenplays. He and his wife love to kayak the many beautiful Colorado lakes with their dog.
