Nonnas a tasty tribute to tradition
You’d be well served to have a pot of spaghetti, a pan of lasagna or a tray of cannoli close at hand while watching Stephen Chbosky’s Nonnas, a tribute to Italian food, family and tradition. Likely, what you have won’t be nearly as tasty as what you see on screen, but it’ll fill the constantly growing cravings you’ll have as the film progresses. Based on the founding of Staten Island’s renowned restaurant Enoteca Maria, the film is much more than food porn as it eventually reveals itself to be a remembrance of a way of life that’s on the verge of extinction.
A lovingly rendered prologue finds young New Yorker Joe Scaravella (Theodore Helm) picking up bread and cookies from the neighborhood bakery, returning home to see his mother and grandmother, or “nonna,” prepare the weekly family meal. A sense of comfort, warmth and security wafts from the kitchen, the memory of which Scaravella (now Vince Vaughn) recalls at his mother’s funeral.
Left $200,000, Scaravella decides to honor his grandmother and mother by opening a restaurant, albeit one with an intriguing gimmick. He wants to feature traditional Italian dishes, but wants them prepared by various nonnas, knowing they bring an instinctual approach to cooking that can’t be duplicated. He approaches family friends Roberta (Lorriane Bracco) and Antonella (Brenda Vaccaro) and finds Teresa (Talia Shire) after posting a want ad on Craigslist. With these three in the kitchen, Gia (Susan Sarandon), a local beautician who loves to bake, is brought in to handle the dessert menu.
However, once they open, after having renovated a long-closed eatery, success is hard to come by. Resistance from those in the neighborhood where Scaravella has set up shop keep people away, while a lack of reviews and word-of-mouth undercut their efforts as well.
The interactions among the four cooks provides the movie with its heart. Roberta and Antonella’s prickly exteriors are countered nicely by Teresa’ timidity, while the trio don’t know what to make of Gia’s brazen sexuality. Their bickering ultimately gives way to a heart-to-heart among the quartet – the highlight of the movie – in which each reveals a hidden aspect from their respective pasts. The four veteran actresses bring a subtle poignancy to the scene that resonates throughout the rest of the film, giving it substance and meaning.
As his career has progressed, Vaughn has learned that less is more, resulting in more meaningful performances. He’s quite good here, quiet rather than boisterous, introspective instead of demonstrative, bringing a sense of dignity to Scaravella that’s appealing and appropriate. He’s ably supported by Linda Cardellini as Olivia, Scaravella’s former high school flame he’s hoping to win back. Her low-key approach and natural charm compliment Vaughn nicely, while Joe Manganiello and Drea de Matteo as our hero’s closest friends round out this strong cast.
More than anything, Nonnas underscores the importance of community that’s fostered around the dinner table. Today’s hectic schedules have made having nightly family meals a near impossible feat. The value of sharing, camaraderie and love that occurs during this seemingly innocuous activity can’t be overstated, this ritual creating a bond of caring and security that’s invaluable. This is driven home again and again, the act of preparing food and feeding someone seen as an act of love that’s irreplaceable.
And while those at Enoteca Maria may not be your actual nonna, they go out of their way to make you feel as if you’re family. Interacting with patrons as well as feeding them, the restaurant, which has diversified to include nonnas from other cultures, is an oasis intent on keeping alive all that we’ve lost regarding the connection between family and food. Nonnas is a loving tribute to their efforts, a wakeup call for us all to keep these traditions alive in our own small way. Streaming on Netflix.
Clown a cut above its competition
While it fills in every box on the “Slasher Movie Trope Checklist,” Eli Craig’s Clown in a Cornfield manages to inject enough smarts, humor and style into the formula to make it all seem, if not exactly fresh, certainly a cut above typical genre fare. Sporting a game cast, effective location shooting and timely social commentary, the film’s simplistic title belies the intelligence and skill that’s gone into its making. Though taking place in modern day, the movie sports an old-school vibe that will likely remind you of the 80s slasher flicks that have become genre touchstones.
Kettle Springs, a tiny Midwest town, is an insular community that does not take kindly to outsiders. However, the residents there seem ready to make an exception for Dr. Maybrook (Aaron Abrams) and his daughter, Quinn (Katie Douglas). The tiny burg is in need of a new sawbones, while the Maybrooks are looking for a soft place to land after suffering a tragedy, so it seems to be a perfect fit.
Quinn gets a crash course in the town’s history from Cole (Carson MacCormac) and his posse, which includes Janet (Cassandra Potenza), Ronnie (Verity Marks), Tucker (Ayo Solanke) and Matt (Alexandre Martin Deakin). These high schoolers embrace their reputation as troublemakers, exploiting the town’s notorious history with a series of videos starring a serial killer of legend from the area, known as Frendo. Based on the mascot for the local corn syrup factory that’s burned down, their movies feature staged murders committed by the clown-faced slayer. The teens love them, the adults hate them and once reports of real murders being committed by Frendo are reported, confusion and chaos reigns.
Craig takes a self-aware approach that helps the familiar go down a bit easier, something the cast of young actors projects as well. The script by Carter Blanchard, based on the novel by Adam Cesare, wisely portrays each of the victims as likeable, Quinn coming off as easiest to relate to. Douglas is a standout, giving a fierce, at times, funny performance as the requisite Final Girl, while her peers impress as well when put in the spotlight.
It’s to Crag’s credit that he keeps the film humming along as he does. Running a brisk 90 minutes, sans credits, the director wastes no time, each scene executed briskly, before moving to the next with equal urgency. That there is little fat to Clown, is a huge plus, as is the way it depicts its violence. There’s an initial restraint that gradually gives way to scenes of a more graphic nature, which is part-and-parcel of these movies. Yet none of the extreme moments are lingered on and there is never a sense of exploitation at play. Still, horror fans’ appetites will be satiated, as Craig finds the fine line between what’s necessary as opposed to what’s gratuitous.
The social commentary in Clown, while obvious, is still effective. The elders’ notion of sticking to tradition, their hatred of outsiders and resistance to new ways of thinking all smack of the current divisiveness between conservatives and liberals. Yes, it’s low-hanging fruit, but Craig never lets it overwhelm the story, yet its presence is important in the effort to foster a continuing dialogue concerning these issues.
And as gruesome as it may sound, there’s a sense of fun to Clown that’s most welcome. Craig knows that a good horror film is a vicarious experience meant to provide safe thrills, not something to make us turn away in disgust. His peers would do well to follow his lead. In theaters.
Brainless Fight tasteless and insulting
Bullet Train on a plane…with a lotta blood.”
I have a feeling that was the elevator pitch for James Madigan’s Fight or Flight, a derivative, gratuitously violent film that caters to those who find graphic chainsaw violence and frequent neck-snapping entertaining. Though it contains occasional flashes of wit, those fleeting moments are drowned out by the cacophony of violence that ensues. As is de rigueur in modern action movies, the chopping, shooting, punching and gouging becomes so frequent that thrills give way to tedium, which segues to a feeling of numbness that proves dispiriting.
Josh Hartnett, who has done little to capitalize on his Oppenheimer comeback by starring in this and the M. Night Shyamalan turkey Trap, is Lucas Reyes, an ex-secret service agent who’s intent on pickling his brain and liver in Bangkok. Seems he was once the best of the best, went over the line and blah, blah, blah is in need of redemption. He gets his chance when Director Katherine Brunt (Katee Sackhoff) comes calling with a dire situation that needs handling.
Seems a terrorist, only known as the Ghost, has committed another in a long series of heinous acts and is heading to the Bangkok airport. Not knowing what he looks like, Reyes is told to look for someone with a gunshot wound in the side. His job is to identify and apprehend the villain before the plane they’re on lands in San Francisco.
Worse premises have been made into good movies, but that is not the case here. I’m doing all authors a disservice by calling Brooks McLaren and D.J. Cotrona screenwriters, but that’s who’s listed in the credits, so there you have it. One cliché after another follows as a contract has been put out on the Ghost and, wouldn’t you know it, the plane is filled with hitmen looking to collect. Not to be outdone by this stroke of brilliance, McLaren and Cotrona include a scene that finds Reyes high, seeing things in a distorted, psychedelic manner before plucking the army of assassins from Central Casting. Oh, and when they find themselves stuck in their vain efforts to write pithy dialogue, they throw in the f-bomb here and there. You’re more likely to stumble across a gorilla in the lobby of the Ritz than find any wit in this movie.
To Madigan’s credit, he does keep this mess moving yet, in the end, he’s to blame for how the film’s violence is depicted. While some directors rely on characters’ reactions to impart the severity of the mayhem in their movies, Madigan belongs to the legions of unimaginative filmmakers who mistakenly think showing someone being impaled or having a chainsaw thrust through them is effective and entertaining. Instead of being cartoonish and intended as parody, Flight wallows in its sophomoric approach, gleefully portraying one graphic killing after the next as a stylish act to be marveled at and cackled over. As such, this is a movie pitched at teens, the ones who get their kicks pulling wings off flies.
I suppose I’ve seen too many movies and little will seem fresh or inventive to me. I’m aware that, as I age, my crotchety side is growing. I’m quite sure I’ll be yelling at the neighborhood kids about their presence on my lawn soon enough. Yet, when I see something like Flight, I can’t help but be disgusted by the laziness and lack of imagination playing out before me. How something like this could be entertaining or who would find it as such boggles my mind. Obviously, my becoming an anachronism snuck up on me. In theaters.