Nonna

Nonna (Italian for grandmother) is alone. Alone in southern Italy. Every day, she works hard to preserve her legacy — a sprawling two-story bed and breakfast. She and her husband built it with their own hands, using hard-earned Deutschmarks saved over more than three decades of guest work in Germany. In 1999, they returned to Italy, while their children and grandchildren remained in Germany. Nonno (Italian for grandfather) has since passed away, and now only her hard-of-hearing brother lives around the corner. Occasionally, they eat together — more often, they shout. And if they need a reason, the now broken lawn trimmer will do. Video calls with her sister, children, and grandchildren keep her connected to Germany. The distance to her family is vast, and the connection is often poor. Yet Nonna tirelessly goes about her daily chores in the empty rooms, long corridors, and garden. In the process, she slowly — and reluctantly — comes to rely on Ali, a day labourer. Nonna increasingly disappears into the structure of the house. Stubborn, loud, and contemplative, she struggles with the knowledge that she will soon have to face a decision.