Nonnas

With its cameras repeatedly hovering over an entire buffet’s worth of sumptuous repasts, Nonnas tries to win over your taste buds, if not your brain.

This affectionate tribute to matriarchs whose most delectable dishes are usually served with a side order of wisdom is heartfelt and mildly amusing, yet overall is more of an appetizer than a full meal.

Deeply rooted in Italian-American heritage, it’s a gently comic crowd-pleaser from director Stephen Chbosky (Dear Evan Hansen) about the value of friends and family, laughing through grief, honoring your loved ones, discovering your true passion, and the power of food to connect us all.

However, despite its lovely intentions, the film rarely transcends stereotypes in depicting its characters or the blue-collar neighborhood they inhabit.

Joe (Vince Vaughn) is a New York transit engineer grieving the loss of his mother and her cooking exploits that fed generations of his extended family.

He hatches a plan to open an Italian restaurant in Staten Island, with the twist of hiring real-life grandmothers — or nonnas — to prepare the menu. Sounds great, but the aspiring restaurateur has no business sense, as his best friend (Joe Manganiello) is quick to mention. “I don’t know how to explain it, but this is what I need,” Joe counters.

Scraping together enough money to see his dream through, he assembles an eccentric collection of outspoken culinary doyennes including Gia (Susan Sarandon), Antonella (Brenda Vaccaro), Roberta (Lorraine Bracco), and Teresa (Talia Shire).

They support Joe’s vision, as does an ex-childhood sweetheart (Linda Cardellini) with whom he reconnects along the way. But outside publicity is scarce and the customers aren’t coming, prompting Joe to face reality.

Inspired by a true story, the contrived screenplay is aggressively sentimental, bolstered by the infectious charisma of its feisty title characters who serve up mouth-watering entrees with a dash of witty sarcasm.

In fact, you wish Nonnas spent more precious moments with them in the kitchen and less time grinding through a predictable plot about entrepreneurial hurdles that feels like reheated leftovers.

As each of the master chefs takes an obligatory turn in the spotlight, they help generate a rooting interest in this otherwise stale underdog story that could use more spice in its narrative recipe.

Rated PG, 112 minutes.