La Dolce Villa vs. Real Life: Let’s Compare

I moved to Italy and renovated a home - here’s what the movie gets wrong (and a few things it gets right).

I didn’t want to watch La Dolce Villa. I really didn’t. But curiosity got the best of me, and, well, here we are. If you’ve been on Netflix lately, you may have stumbled across this movie, another in a long line of wishful-thinking European home-reno fantasies. And as someone who actually did move to Italy and renovated homes here, I felt obligated to watch so I could compare notes. You know, for accuracy.

This shouldn’t alarm anyone, but overall, the movie is a fever dream of unrealistic expectations, borderline misinformation, and a bizarrely polished version of the one-euro home initiative, about as real as an Olive Garden 'Italian' dining experience. And yet, I can't be too critical because, if we're being completely honest, a Netflix show also changed the trajectory of my life.

I don’t typically go broadcasting this, but my journey to owning a home in Italy didn’t start with some deep-seated dream or a long-lost ancestral connection. Nope. It started with a 2017 Netflix show called How to Live Mortgage Free. It wasn’t particularly well-reviewed, most found it silly or out-of-touch because, shocker, most of the featured homeowners just happened to have giant piles of cash lying around to buy quirky homes outright. But for me, it wasn’t about the logistics; it was about the concept. The idea that you could actually live without a mortgage ignited an obsession in me, one that snowballed into house-hunting deep dives, which eventually led me to a little home in Italy.

So, this is not me telling you to crush your dreams of a Tuscan villa. Dream away! But please, take La Dolce Villa with a heavy pinch of salt.

Let’s break down some of the movie’s more questionable “realities.”

Truth vs. Fiction in La Dolce Villa:

1. Old women staring at foreigners? Absolutely true.
Locals have a borderline supernatural ability to identify an outsider. And not just foreigners, even Italians from different regions get clocked immediately. The way you dress, the way you walk, even your haircut, it’s like a sixth sense.

2. There is no such thing as an “Italian Villa Program.”
They throw around this phrase like it’s a government-sponsored reality show. It’s not. I assume they meant the one-euro home initiative, but calling it the “Italian Villa Program” is how Americans end up thinking there’s a hotline they can call for their free countryside estate.

3. The first two “run-down” houses? Way too good.
I've walked through dozens of abandoned homes, and the details like the old calendar on the wall? Spot on. But the condition of these “reject” homes? Unrealistically nice. A house in that state wouldn’t go for one euro, it would be at least €5k.

4. The “final” house? An absolute fantasy.
The home she ultimately picks as her one-euro property? That’s a €30K home at minimum, especially in Tuscany, where the movie seems to take place. And renovating it to a livable condition? Another €30K, at least. The math isn’t mathing.

5. “You should at least expect a roof.” LOL no.
The dad character scoffs, “I’m not expecting the Sistine Chapel, but I expect a roof.” Sir, no. You’d be lucky to get four walls.

6. A town collectively feeding a goat?
This actually does happen, except with dogs. In southern Italy, it’s common for a community to care for strays after elderly owners pass. A goat, though? Haven’t seen it, but I wouldn’t rule it out.

7. Italians abandoning family homes? 100% real.
There are gorgeous, historic homes sitting empty simply because the younger generation doesn’t want the hassle. If it's too remote or needs too much work, people just walk away, even if it’s free.

8. The role of the “geometra” is accurate but flexible.
Yes, a geometra (a kind of building surveyor) is required for basically all house projects. But let’s just say… not everything always goes by the book.

9. The myth of the Italian DIYer.
Italians, in general, do not do DIY home repairs. If something needs fixing, they call a professional. This isn’t Fixer Upper, and Italians are much more inclined to leave anything renovation related up to an expert.

10. The town’s “only contractor” being fully booked for months?
Wildly true. In small towns, you don’t have the luxury of choice. You take who you can get, and you wait.

11. Hidden pizza ovens? Totally normal.
The shock of finding a hidden wood-fired oven in an old house? Please. Italians have been covering up these beauties for decades for the sake of practicality. Drafty? Bricked up. Outdated? Tiled over. I’ve seen entire stone fireplaces casually buried in walls.

12. Italians aren’t actually that cold to foreigners.
Those three Italian women giving the dad the death stare in the first half of the movie? Not buying it. Italians, especially in smaller towns, are insanely welcoming. Curious? Yes. Reserved? Maybe at first. But rude? Unlikely, unless you’re actively being annoying.

13. Spiking coffee with grappa is absolutely normal.
The assistant constantly offering everyone grappa? A+ accuracy. No one bats an eye if you do this. In some places, it’s basically encouraged.

14. Flipping homes in Italy is not a casual endeavor.
The movie makes it seem like she can just fix and flip the house for a profit, no problem. Reality check: red tape, restrictions on capital gains, taxes, and an incredibly slow real estate market make this far more complicated.

15. The mayor being a full-time mayor? Likely not.
The movie’s mayor is surprisingly hands-on, which is… cute. In real life, most small-town mayors have other jobs. Ours is also the town pediatrician.

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Why Do People Love This Sh*t?

Look, I get the appeal of movies like this. Who doesn’t want to believe they can waltz into an abandoned Italian villa and turn it into a dream home with a bit of elbow grease? But the reality is messier, costlier, and involves a lot more bureaucratic nonsense than Netflix lets on.

That said, I’m not here to tell you not to chase your dreams. Just be realistic about how you chase them. If a little Netflix-induced delusion gets you started, I can’t judge. After all, that’s exactly how I ended up here.

Have you watched La Dolce Villa in agony as well? What did you think? If you don’t live in Italy, did it seem believable?