4- Arts & Entertainment JEWISH FILM FES IVAL From Here To Entertainment The JCC's Lenore Marwil Jewish Film Festival brings the whole Jewish world to Metro Detroit. But first comes the adventure of just getting the films here in time. Elizabeth Applebaum Special to the Jewish News I t was the first year of the Lenore Marwil Jewish Film Festival, and director David Magidson was eager to show Women of the Wall, the story of a group of women at the Kotel. All he had to do was find it. The director's name was Faye Lederman; but when Ivlagidson called her in New York, the answering machine reported that she had moved to Philadelphia. So he got a number in Philadelphia, where another answering machine offered the information that any- one looking for Faye Lederman should call San Francisco. So he called San Francisco, where an answering machine directed him to Sandy in Philadelphia. So he called Sandy. Sandy was Faye Lederman's mother and yes, of course, she would be glad to send him a copy of the film. Wrapped in a bit of brown paper, it arrived just in time. The Jewish Community Center of Metropolitan Detroit's Lenore Marwil Jewish Film Festival is turning 11 this year, and with it comes a whole new set of adventures in the films — stories of gang- sters, a brash comedian, boxing, a tiny Chinese boy lost in Israel, a bar mitzvah in England, love and secrets. And while the final product is always picture-perfect, it can be quite an experience getting the films here. David Magidson has been director of the film festival from the beginning. Planning the event, he says, begins one year before the festival even opens. "We've already got a list for next year," he says. The initial list comes from a variety of sources: foundations for Jewish culture, word of mouth, trade publications. Many are small, low-budget gems from the world of independent film — a place Magidson calls "the most disorganized free-for-all on Earthy' It's not unusual to have to chase down the contact, as with Faye Lederman, or learn that a movie isn't actually available because the filmmaker borrowed money from a friend to finance his film but has yet to pay anything on his bill so the friend is holding the movie hostage. Yes, it's really that weird and, actually, fun — a rough-and-tumble, shoot 'em up place where only the brave dare venture. "It is the last frontier," Magidson says. Trying to locate the films is just the first step. Then there's the matter of actually getting them to Detroit. Most arrive on time. But with every festival comes at least one filmmaker, like a certain Mr. X. He received payment for the use of his movies and then assured Magidson that they were on their way. But nothing ever arrived. So Magidson called him up and said, "Look, these movies are supposed to show tomor- row. Where are they?" "Oh," the man replied. "I guess I forgot to send them." In a few cases, the filmmakers "have no recollection of us at all — and then we remind them that they've already received their check." As film festival director, Magidson is dependent on the kindness of strangers, not only of the artistic kind, like forgetful filmmakers, but the deliverymen. Sitting back in his chair, wincing a bit but still managing to smile, Magidson recalls when he forwarded one film, show- ing here in Detroit, to another city. (It often happens that only a handful of cop- ies of a certain movie are available, so they make their journey from one festival to the next.) The movie arrived on time, but the business closed before delivering it. Magidson received a call from the forlorn festival director who could actually see the movie — slated to be shown that night — on the floor of the locked office. "Our goal is to have all the movies here by the time the film festival starts:' Magidson says. "But the truth is that we have no control over when we get them." In the end, though, everything manages to come together. The movies arrive in their 100-pound cans, or as a single DVD, in Detroit. From there, it's a system of "hub and spokes" as the films make their rounds throughout the state. Magidson explains one might be showing in Birmingham on Tuesday and Ann Arbor on Wednesday and Flint on Thursday. "It's complicated," he admits. Yet the film festi- val gang has a perfect system that involves everyone being in the same place at the same time to make the swap. It's a bit different from Magidson's usual daily operations. He also is a professor of theater at Wayne State University, and "with a play, all the rehearsals eliminate uncertainties so by the time it's opening night, you pretty much know what every- thing is going to look like." Film festival is a whirlwind that is com- pletely chaotic, completely unpredictable, but always fun, Magidson says. "I love it." Elizabeth Applebaum is a marketing specialist at the Jewish Community Center of Metropolitan Detroit. How To Order Tickets are $10. A full-series film festival pass to the Commerce 14/Birmingham Palladium theaters is $154 for JCC members, $180 for nonmembers. Film festival tickets may be ordered by phone, online and in person. Order forms may be obtained online at www.jccdet. org. To purchase in person, come to either JCC location: 6600 W. Maple Road in West Bloomfield, or 15110 W. 10 Mile Road in Oak Park. To order by phone, call (248) 432-5459. Please have credit card (VISA or MasterCard) ready when calling.