Family is everything – it may be an outdated idea to some (and we have to take into account the fact that many people do tend to have difficult relationships with their biological or adopted families), but it is still the cornerstone of nearly every society, even if it may be a remnant of a more conservative era built on old-fashioned values. However, while it is important to consider those who may not have the best relationships, there is something wonderful about celebrating family, whether the ones we are born into, or the ones we choose – and it becomes even more compelling when we see how family can impact an entire community. One of the most poignant and captivating examples of this comes in the story of Joe Scaravella, who was down on his luck after the death of his mother, and as a result decided to take quite a risk – he opened a restaurant on Staten Island where he intended to serve authentic Italian cuisine, hoping to recreate the beautiful memories from his childhood. However, the hook was that, instead of hiring trained, professional chefs, he simply hired nonnas – elderly Italian grandmothers who were given the opportunity to elevate their love for cooking and family to a much higher level, their craft becoming the foundation for a daring business venture that may have encountered a few obstacles, but ultimately proved to be quite effective once the community began to realise the merits of this idea. His story has now been brought to life in the form of Nonnas, in which director Stephen Chbosky recreates his journey from penniless manual labourer to wildly successful business owner whose love for family and community gave him a new lease on life, and allowed countless older women to find a way to touch the hearts and souls of countless people. A simple but very effective blend of heartfelt comedy and tender drama, and helmed by someone who seems to have quite a strong grasp on human emotions, almost to the point where it feels like any other approach may have been wildly inappropriate for such a story.

Ambiguity has never been a particularly welcome companion for these simple, heartfelt stories – the more clear a film’s concept is, the more effective they tend to be in practice, which is precisely why Nonnas has proven to be such a sensation amongst the audience for which it was designed. It lays out its ideas clearly and without an ounce of vagueness to be found anywhere. Fundamentally, this is a film about family and culture, two concepts that are heavily interwoven and have proven to be the foundation for so many tremendous works that don’t aim to be particularly complex, but yet still retain some degree of nuance, primarily because they offer us something we have likely not encountered before. At its core, Nonnas is a celebration of family and the people who define it – it’s more than just being related by blood or social mandate, but rather something much more profound, and there are some fascinating observations made throughout this film. The vessel through which these ideas are delivered is perhaps the most unifying force of them all: food, which has always been the one element that has united cultures and allowed different populations to reach the closest approximation to global harmony that we’re ever likely to see. Food speaks where words fail, and Nonnas is very much built around not only celebrating the cuisine, but also the people who toil in front of the stove, pouring every ounce of love they have into preparing meals, bringing the same joy and affection to this professional pursuit as they would when cooking for their families. Chbosky implicitly understands that there is something truly beautiful about the idea of a group of people gathering around a table and sharing a meal, especially one cooked by someone with both a passion for the craft and the people consuming the fruits of their labour – and all of this so wonderfully packaged into every frame of this film.

Nonnas is a film that has its priorities in order, particularly with the cast – the director understood that, while it was Scaravella’s story that guides the film, no one is coming to see his character, who may be the focus, but is not particularly interesting, a fact that everyone involved acknowledges and somehow also agree with, based on how he is nothing more than an audience surrogate. In this regard, Vince Vaughn does turn in a solid performance in the role and is very committed to guiding us through the narrative without ever taking up the focus too heavily. He’s always at his best when he’s able to step back and allow others to take the spotlight, while also still delivering good work of his own, which is certainly the case here. The core of Nonnas is built around his wonderful supporting cast, which mainly consists of a quartet of four of the greatest actors of their generation – there has been a recent surge in films in which a few notable acting legends are assembled, with the main attraction being able to see wonderful performers who have defined the industry for decades getting the chance to let loose and play compelling characters. In the case of this film, we find Susan Sarandon, Brenda Vaccaro, Talia Shire and Lorraine Bracco enlisted to play the titular grandmothers – each one of them is very different in terms of personality (and at a glance, it seems slightly odd that people like Sarandon and Bracco are cast, despite being perfectly appropriate in terms of age), but they all work together brilliantly. Their chemistry is fantastic, and they bring such heart and humour to the proceedings, which makes every moment they are on screen shine – but also means that the scenes in which Vaughn is interacting with other actors (such as Joe Manganiello and Drea de Matteo) feel slightly less impactful, since all of the effort is distributed to the core quartet, with everyone else just being secondary in terms of focus. Nonetheless, Nonnas delivers exactly what it promises, and proves to be very effective in showcasing its core cast.

However, as much as we can appreciate the charm of Nonnas, we also can’t avoid noticing that it is quite a conventional film, since it does sacrifice innovation for a sense of consistency and reliability, which is not too bizarre for something of this nature. The film hits every note that we would expect, almost as if it were written by making reference to the usual narrative structure we often find defining these films. There isn’t much originality here, but it does bring into question whether that was ever truly the intention in the first place – there is a warmth and charm to the film that allows us to overlook the more conventional qualities, even if it can sometimes feel slightly weighted down by the constant barrage of clichés that we find linger slightly too heavily throughout the film. There were bound to be a few moments where the film relied quite heavily on sentimentality, but there are only a finite number of opportunities where it can tug on the heartstrings before it came slightly too much, which is unfortunately the case towards the end of the film, which runs about twenty minutes too long (and as a result has quite a few scenes that could have been cut down or deleted entirely), and which ultimately lack any real sense of cohesion, seemingly only existing to pad a film that did not need to border on two hours in order to get its message across. Some of the scenes do come across as quite overwrought, which is expected but still makes us wish a slightly less heavy-handed approach could have been taken, especially since all the emotions were already there, and didn’t need to be continuously referenced, such as in the climactic moment where the titular characters step out of the kitchen to a standing ovation (accompanied by the ghosts of the protagonist’s deceased mother and grandmother), which simply did not need to be present, since the story spoke for itself, and a more subtle execution may have been more effective.

A word of caution – avoid watching Nonnas on an empty stomach, since it’s bound to stir that deep-seated cravings we all would prefer not to experience when watching such a film. However, this is only one of the many lovely aspects of this film, which is best described as a warm hug of a film, an upbeat and charming exploration of family, culture and how food is something that binds us together in a kind of common humanity, celebrating the simpler but more poignant aspects that make life worth living, which is all the film intended to be. It may be quite surface-level, and it is never at all challenging, but it certainly did not propose itself as being some subversive, daring work that set out to redefine the genre or present the viewer with something we hadn’t seen before. Instead, it is a delightfully moving, heartfelt tribute to the women who dedicated their lives to expressing their love, which often took the form of preparing food for their loved ones, an act of service and affection that defined entire generations. The film stirs strong emotions, especially for those of us who have had fond memories of our grandmothers, who are paid such wonderful tribute throughout this film. It may be conventional, and it never goes beyond the obvious, but it all eventually becomes the foundation for such a moving, sweet tribute to the women that give us support, affection and perhaps add a few too many inches to our waistlines, all of which is the core for this delightful, heartfelt and very funny little comedy about the importance of family and culture, and the people who define it in their own way.