A Call To Cleveland: Artist Michael Rakowitz Wants Your Orange Objects

Artist Michael Rakowitz proposes that Clevelanders remove orange from their lives.

In the wake of the tragic police shooting death of 12-year-old Tamir Rice, Clevelanders have been left with the burning question: What do we do now?

Michael Rakowitz, an artist known for bridging art with political activism through social experiments and a Northwestern University professor, is proposing a grand solution — that Clevelanders rid themselves of the color orange as a statement on the loss of safety. The removal of orange mimics the absent orange safety cap from the fake gun Rice had at the time of the shooting last fall.

"A color removed will challenge the city of Cleveland to have a wide range of uncomfortable discussions on race and violence in a city where people of color do not feel safe," said Rakowitz during a talk at Case Western Reserve University Tuesday night. 

The lecture was a discussion of art as activism and a public brainstorming session for this upcoming art project that would potentially remove orange from the city. Rakowitz is internationally known for controversial public artworks including an Iraqi meal served on plates once owned by Saddam Hussein and homeless shelters made from garbage bags and tape. 

One suggestion to remove orange is to activate spaces throughout the city — art galleries, restaurants, storefronts and community centers — that would act as repositories where citizens can donate orange objects to be displayed. Loren Naji has already signed on to have his Satellite Gallery on the East Side be one such repository, where he'll either donate a room to the project or set up an exhibit in the front yard.

Other options include painting orange traffic cones blue, replacing orange safety vests with yellow ones and having the Cleveland Cavaliers play with different-colored basketballs during their games — after all, LeBron James and Kyrie Irving sported "I Can't Breathe" shirts in December to stand in solidarity with New York police shooting victim Eric Garner.

"At the heart of this project is a question: How does it feel to live in a society where the right to safety is removed?" asks Rakowitz, who plans to meet with city officials in the coming months to jump-start this project that does not have an end date. "If we're talking about the absence of color, let's take it to the next step and actually make a grand gesture about redacting the color of orange and redacting safety from Cleveland as a whole as an act of solidarity."

The Other Weapons Bush Didn’t Find in Iraq: Cleveland's Weapons of Mass Creation Festival

Designer Jeff Finley's festival celebrates Cleveland as a scrappy creative engine. He has taken his passions for art, design, music and entrepreneurship and smashed them into a 3-day extravaganza of raw talent, the Weapons of Mass Creation Festival in Cleveland’s Gordon Square Arts District.

The festival, in its third year, runs tonight through Sunday. It includes 20 speakers, 20 designers and 30 bands, including Tad Carpenter (an illustrator/designer who has worked with Macy's and Hallmark, among many others), Three Bears Design (a Cleveland-based creative collective) and Gregory and the Hawk (a New York-based band with multiple albums and EPs). Many are local. Other featured designers and entrepreneurs are traveling from as far as Nova Scotia, Chicago and San Francisco.

Four locations along Detroit Avenue between West 52nd and West 54th streets, including the Reinberger Auditorium and Saigon Plaza, are hosting concerts, an art show, workshops and what’s billed as the “biggest break-dancing/b-boying battle in Ohio.” Tickets range from $5 for tonight's opening party to $60 for a three-day pass to all lectures and music.

I talked to Finley, who's also a designer and partner at the Cleveland creative design agency Go Media, to find out more about the innovative missile that is WMC.

Q: What does this event bring to of Cleveland that it hasn’t seen before?

A: There’s been an Ingenuity festival and art fests, but as far as commercial art goes, and graphic design, we’re the premier event going on in the Midwest. The types of artist we’re bringing in are the thought leaders in the industry. There’s a young creative class and we’re scrappy and hardworking and trying to build something for the future. We’re really showcasing we have and making it an attraction for other cities to show Cleveland’s really doing something inspiring.

 Q: How were you able to get all of the different people to come to Cleveland?

A: Cleveland is well known but it doesn’t have the reputation of being a creative powerhouse. If you have an event in San Fran, they’ll want to go. We have to work hard to make a compelling reason for people to come here. Making friends in the design community, we’ve built a strong reputation. So we get big-name artists and designers from New York or Chicago to spread the word about last year and now hear how everyone is excited to come back.

Q: What will people who aren’t into the design and indie or punk rock music scene getting out of the event?

A: [It’ll appeal to] people who have this burning passion to do things their own way and start their own business. [It’s about] doing what you want to do, staying scrappy and being an entrepreneur. The common message last year was, “Work hard and make shit.” Just come to be inspired, because we’re all in this together, especially in Cleveland.

A Global View of the FIlm Festival

For every Avatar, there are a thousand films each year that are rarely seen. Each year, Bill Guentzler, of the Cleveland International Film Festival, culls the cinematic herd down to a few hundred. It’s not easy. We sat down with Bill for a few minutes to see how he does it. — Interview by Bob Carson

Q. Is there a window of time when the film must be produced to qualify?

A. We aim to screen the “newest and best,” so usually we try to screen films that are no more than a year old (having their first public screening since the previous March), but on occasion there are amazing films out there that still haven’t been shown in Cleveland that are a bit older, so we still screen them (nothing older than two years if it’s not part of a retrospective).

Q. How big of a pool of films do you wade through?

A. From April 2009 through January 2010, I watched 611 feature films. I don’t count shorts.

Q. Yikes! Do you have a posse of fellow film festival directors from other cities that kick around good choices?

A. Yes. I’m friendly with most of the U.S. directors that have their festivals in the spring. We talk about what we’re programming, maybe try to share some films — so we can share International shipping costs — and recommend a lot of films.

Q. Does showing a film COST the film makers anything or does it COST the CIFF anything to run them? Are these filmmakers merely hoping to be noticed or do they recoup any costs on the film festival trail?

A. Well, filmmakers that submit their film to us (opposed to me finding the films at other film festivals) pay an entry fee (which ranges from $25 to $85, depending on length of film and date they submit). We are charged screening fees for some films, mainly by sales agents or distributors.

Q. Do you ever have desperate producers and directors begging and weeping on your office floor to please, please, show my film? Any screaming and sending nasty notes if they do not make the cut?

A. All the time. Many filmmakers don’t like rejection. But who does? Often, filmmakers are happy that we offer committee comments — we are one of the rare festivals to do so — so they take the rejection a little lighter. At least they know why they weren’t selected. And they need to understand that what might have won the Audience Award at the Butte, Montana film festival just might not work in Cleveland. And when I see 611 films, and we have an additional 500 submitted, we do have to make a lot of tough decisions to bring that number down to the 150 feature films we’re showing.

Q. How do you spread out the decision-making process the rest of the year? Do you watch a movie a day?

A. I start traveling to other festivals in July. I’m out of town for over three months a year (spread out through the summer and fall) at other festivals. We also open our submission process in July.

Q. Do you use any other film festivals prior to the Cleveland festival as a sort of template for your selections and do reviews from these effect your decision?

A. We don’t use any festival as a template, but just by default, the other festivals that I attend have already done some work for me and have created a roster of films that they think work, and I make my decisions on what to see based on that. We, in turn, are somewhat of a “festival of festivals.”

Q. Can you walk us through the process? Say that I’m from Alaska and I just finished a documentary film about a racehorse titled Balls of Fire. What steps would I need to take to get my Balls of Fire running at the 2011 CIFF?

A. Submit your film. We open our submission process in July. We use an online submission service called www.withoutabox.com and we also have forms available on our Web site. Then you wait. Many filmmakers constantly bombard us with calls/emails asking what the status is. If it’s a great film, it will get in; but being a “pest” doesn’t help your case.

Q, And finally, off the top of your head, any quirky "selection stories” pop into mind?

A. Someone sent a bloody baseball bat to the office with their submission (a horror movie obviously). I still have it in my office.

The Cleveland International Film Festival runs at Tower City from March 18th to the 28th. Check back each day starting tomorrow for some previews of coming attractions.

Film Fest: This One Rocks

If you love music from the ‘60s and ‘70s, The Wrecking Crew will entertain and educate you.

For many of us, groups such as The Beatles, Beach Boys, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Rolling Stones, Monkees, The Association, Eagles and Byrds, created the soundtracks of our lives. Each had a string of mega hits that will never leave us.

Let me separate the eight hit machines in the above list into two groups, and then ask you a question.
Group A – The Beach Boys, Monkees, The Association, and Byrds
Group B -The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Eagles and CSNY

Find a reason for the grouping? The answer is wonderfully revealed in The Wrecking Crew, a fascinating documentary for every rock ‘n’ roller.

The subtle, yet seismic answer: the musicians that played on the hit recordings in Group A were all studio musicians. Oh sure, you probably saw some of them play instruments while they were on tour, but the music we grew up listening to came from session musicians. It was not until Group B that they brought a new dimension to the music; they played their own instruments on the recordings.

Even more interesting was that a very small group of studio musicians, between a dozen or two, were the same people who played on virtually every hit record that came out of California in the 1960s.

This tight band of players became known as the “Wrecking Crew.” They played on thousands of recordings, but were rarely listed on the album covers. They did not seem to care. They were making a fabulous living and working nonstop. This documentary is their story.

When a producer had a song in the ’60s, from Sinatra to Glen Campbell (a former “Wrecking Crew” member), Jan & Dean, Sonny and Cher, Mamas and Papas, the Phil Spector stable, Ricky Nelson, TV commercials, it was time to book the “Wrecking Crew.” Some of the names wafted to the fringe of public consciousness, drummer Hal Blaine, guitarist Tommy Tedesco, saxophonist Plas Johnson, bass player Carol Kaye; but for the most part, the crew played on and on and on in obscurity.

And they loved it. Hit after hit rolled off the instruments of the “Wrecking Crew.”

They traveled from one recording studio to another on a nonstop treadmill. The players were so busy they hardly had time to listen to or appreciate their work. Day after day, morning till night, song after song, group after group, and singer after singer, it was an endless blur of rock ‘n’ roll. The whirlwind lasted about 10 years, tapering off when groups began to play their own material in the studios.

If these are the songs of your life, you will love the music, the vintage film clips and the stories behind the music. If you are a younger rock ‘n’ roller, the two hours with members of the “Wrecking Crew” are a valuable history lesson. Don’t miss their class.

— Bob Carson

Saturday, March 28, 9:25 p.m.; Sunday, March 29, 4:25 p.m. USA, 98 minutes

Film Fest: Digging In

This film does what a good documentary should: Start an argument.

Shortly after the credits, those in my circle took positions and defended them with the tenacity of a barbed fishhook in soft flesh. I was in the minority and, much to my annoyance, failed to persuade the others of my side’s correctness. Therefore, free of interruption from my colleagues, I will shamelessly take this opportunity to present my position.

The Garden, by director Scott Hamilton Kennedy, follows a group of Latinos who transformed a section of urban ruin in south Los Angles into gardens. The 14 square acres was pleasant and unique in the urban landscape. The crops were pretty. The people seemed nice. The film claims to be about the dignity, determination and the farmers fight to preserve their garden when the legal owner decides to reclaim his property.

I felt Kennedy was trying show these poor people as exceptional gardeners who turned urban blight into a neighborhood Eden of flowers, trees and vegetables. The land was a symbol of hope for poor citizens in a sad environment. This is true. This is good.

But, and this is where my delusional and inflexible friends missed the point, it was not their land. They were trespassers. No matter the good they did, they should not have been there in the first place.

The bulk of the movie, an Academy Award nominee for Best Documentary, deals with the gardeners’ long, ugly fight to keep the property. (I will not tell you who comes out on top.) Attorneys and activists waged an epic battle in the courts and in the press. Celebrities stopped by. The farmers skirmished among themselves. Voices were raised. Cameras rolled. Politicians danced.

It’s a long sad saga that would later inspire my friends to mumble about justice, beauty and the human spirit. My point was entitlement. These nice people were not entitled to an inch of the ground where they planted their gardens; they just happened to be in the neighborhood and did a good thing.

Oh well, see the film, make your own decision. With wisdom, it will be mine.

— Bob Carson

Friday, March 27, 6:45 p.m.; Saturday, March 289, 11:10 a.m. USA, 107 minutes

Film Fest: Crooning Moment

I loved this charmer.

I laughed out loud a few times, felt sad a few times and was not sure what was going on much of the time. Still, it worked.

A French singer, who was a one-hit wonder 30 years ago, is hired from his dead-end job as a hotel clerk to sing his one song at a birthday party in Lebanon. One of his few remaining fans, the wife a wealthy coffee baron, loves the song and has fond memories of Bruno Caprice’s visit during the war-torn years of the ‘70s.
Bruno has no such memories. He just wants a check and a change from his dreary life.

Patrick Chesnaisis a real presence as Bruno, a washed up, yet oddly dignified sad sack. Like many French leading men, he is several kilometers from handsome, but somehow he is a babe magnet. Eventually, the aging singer hooks up with a Julia Roberts look-alike. This phenomena is inspirational to American males; it’s like beautiful French women always forget to wear their glasses.

Like many French movies, a tight plot is a superficial accessory. The film is more like a series of skits loosely strung together as different characters dance in the spotlight. A scene of Jerry Lewis-like slapstick can be followed by surprising melancholy. Hints at dark Lebanese history and kidnapping are followed by Guys and Dolls caricatures. Serious songs share the stage with jingles and bad poetry.

The setting in Lebanon was a revelation. Those of us used to seeing this place on CNN after war, terrorism or mayhem would probably not consider a visit to the mid-eastern nation as part of our bucket list. Sure, it’s a movie, but I found myself on the Internet checking flights. City or country, Lebanon looked great to me.

Melodrama Habibi may be a stretch for some: It has subtitles. It is quirky. But it was fun, and it had heart. Evidently others have found the crazy stew appetizing, the film recently bagged the audience award at the Brussels European Film Fest.

Get a ticket to hear Bruno Caprice croon.

— Bob Carson

Wednesday, March 25, 6:50 p.m.; Thursday March 26, 2:40 p.m.; Friday, March 27, 9:20 a.m. France, Lebanon, 98 minutes Subtitles

Film Fest: A Troll Through Italian Politics

Wow, what an amazing work of cinematography.

After an action packed montage of murder and assassination in the first minute, the director, Paolo Sorrenttino, settles in and paints a hundred masterpieces - beautiful, evocative settings of palaces, Italian streets, scenes, etc. Then, in the center of every masterpiece, he has placed an odd, unattractive, phlegmatic gnome wearing a business suit.

The movie chronicles the career of seven-time Italian Prime Minister Giulio Andreotti. Beginning in 1947, Andreotti and his Christian Democrat party ruled Italy for 44 years, until a series of scandals called “Bribesville” finally got them off stage. Andreotti has been constantly rumored to have been behind all sorts of illegal activities, including Mafia connections.

The story and the players in this long-playing Italian drama are common ground for Europeans, especially Italians. Unfortunately for most of Americans, we must have been taking a long nap. He is one weird dude, sort of like a sphinx. I am sad to report that despite spending several years teaching government and history in Ohio high schools, I never heard of Andreotti or the juicy scandal.

We loved our trials of the century: O.J. and President Clinton’s impeachment, but most Americans never heard of “Bribesville.” This really hurts on two levels; we realized we missed a great, scandalous, potboiler of a trial, and we do not know what in the hell is going on in this movie.

The craftsmanship is outstanding, a wonderful lesson for any film fanatic. However, if you are not up to date on Italian politics, the blizzard of names, political parties and past crimes will irritate you. My suggestion is to do some research on recent Italian politics before you see the film; an hour or so in the library or on the computer will help. This sequence works much better than what I did, watch ll Divo and then do to the research.

— Bob Carson

Friday, March 27, 11:35 a.m.; Saturday, March 28, 6:45 p.m. Italy, France, Subtitles, 117 minutes

FIlm Fest: Deep in the Crease

I love it when people go deep. It has become somewhat of a preoccupation for me to seek out stories about people that find a passion that becomes all-consuming.

Chess players, Star Trek fans, bridge players, harness-racing fans — any infatuation seems relatively simple on the surface. Scratch through and these preoccupations are infinitely complex. There will always be a group of the infatuated that follows the muse to the extreme. So it is with origami.

Between the Folds finds a dozen artists, hobbyists and scientists that have surrendered to the siren call of folding paper. Some of the people we spend time with in this documentary may be eccentric, but the majority are extremely intelligent. Many have left other professions to take single sheets of paper and turn them into astonishing works of art and science. Watch them at work here.

It seems hard to believe that you could become mesmerized by listening to people talk about folding paper, but believe it. Also, It is hard to categorize paper folding. Is this art, mathematics, science, hobby or theory? Whatever you call it, hard-core folders spend unbelievable amounts of effort, time, work, brain power and emotion.

It was interesting how fresh the world of origami felt. Computers and theorists have taken the sheet of paper to another plane. In their interviews, several of the participants gave the impression that in the world of the paper folder, we have just touched the surface.

Fold yourself into a seat for this one.

— Bob Carson

Thursday, March 26, 7:15 p.m.; Saturday, March 28, 2:15 p.m.(Proceeded by Sing Opera!, a 27 minute film showcasing how 64 children mount a world premiere of the family opera “Keeper of the Night”) USA - 55 minutes

Film Fest: Hiring Squad

The ranks of my employed friends have been thinning rapidly. I hope they do not look for re-employment at Farewell-Gutmann, a fictional company with all the warmth that a firefly produces in a blizzard. This is not a great film, but it is oddly compelling.

Working in a large office or corporation is a strange trip. So is this movie. Welcome to Farewell-Gutmann plays like a frightening fairy tale. Instead of ogres hiding under bridges, scary things happen in the hallways and in cold offices.
When their boss dies, three upper management people in a large pharmaceutical company hope to be promoted. The company sends an eerie Bela Lugosi look-alike to put the hopefuls through some grueling, degrading and unorthodox interviews.

A second, equally desperate, group of job seekers wants to get their feet in the door. Perhaps it is the difficult economic climate, but watching these people writhe and grovel was very uncomfortable. The barren corridors and antiseptic offices was oppressive. A few of the job seekers went over the top in expressing their desires, and the director seemed to have one foot in black comedy and the other in drama.

Still, the workplace is a compelling vehicle for a director. Everyone has been there: looking for work, looking for promotion, hiring, firing or fearing termination. We know some of theses characters will get the job and others will get jettisoned. This empathy makes it hard to take our eyes off of the screen.

If you happen to be one of the many recently unemployed, you will leave the theater after two hours at Farewell-Gutmann with the consolation that you may not be missing much – just the money and the pressure.

— Bob Carson

Saturday, March 21, 1:50 p.m.; Monday, March 23, 4:30 p.m. Spain; Subtitles, 100 minutes

Film Fest: Slow Dance

Thanks to the Cleveland International Film Festival, Demark is at the top of my list for relocation should I ever get deported. With the exception of a few cartoons, the Danes keep a low profile. The European nation looks tidy and compact, the people appear relatively normal, the food edible, and the housing (although a tad small) looks livable. They make good movies too, including a couple of my all-time favorites films.

Dancers is difficult to review without giving away the plot. Even reading the description in the program, as I did, will spoil much of the drama. Here’s the problem. If a romanitc film surrounds a mysterious stranger entering the picture with a mysterious past, once you know who the stranger is, and what his past is, a lot of the thrill is gone. As the viewer, knowing this information keeps you off the edge of your seat. You know what is going to happen; you just sit back and wait for the events to happen.

With this in mind, there are a few things to consider: The acting in Dancers is terrific. The setting is unique, a family-operated dance school in existence since World War II. A middle aged-daughter and her mother live and work amid dance students. The unique setting allows music and dance to easily integrate with the drama. As the final credits roll, this is one of those films where you turn to the person sitting next to you and say, “I think she . . .?“

My feeling for Dancers may have changed considerably had I entered the theater in my normal state of oblivion. A little knowlegde can be a dangerous thing. My advice, if you choose to see Dancers – don’t do your homework.

— Bob Carson

Friday, March 20, 11:45 a.m.; Sunday, March 22, 9:20 p.m. Denmark, Subtitles,100 minutes

Film Fest: Market Crash

Attending the Cleveland International Film Festival is an adventure. Inherent in adventures are risks.

For example, if you take a wild plunge into the stock market, you may hook up with Bill Gates in the startup days of Microsoft; however, you may also sign up with Bernie Madoff toward the end of his Ponsi scam. If you go on an African safari, you may return with wonderful memories and ancient artifacts or an exotic foot fungus.

The Market - A Tale of Trade falls into the Bernie and fungus column. A movie like this is dangerous territory for first-time attendees, because if this is your first experience at the film festival, it may well be your last.

The film started very slowly, then slowed down. The Turkish setting was more despressing than your 401(k). The glacial pace had zero drama.

The plot was nonexisitant, with just a hint of a story about smuggling some medicine for a hospital (it did not help to have the valuable medicine look like a refilled 7-up bottle). The expressionless protagonist basically drove around ugly cities in a beat-up red pick up looking for things to trade. Occasionally, he climbed out of the truck to get drunk.

Through the years, many of the films at the film festival that I did not like managed to entertain me on some level. I can amuse myself with the landscape, the film techology, the exotic language or countless other sideroads. However, The Market – A Tale of Trade, did not give me much to work with.

— Bob Carson

Friday, March 20, 4:40 p.m.; Saturday, March 21, 2:10 p.m. Germany, UK, Turkey, Kazakhstan, Subtitles, 93 minutes

Film Fest: Jack Sparrow Lives

A good band of pirates will always kidnap the hearts of film lovers. From Errol Flynn to Johnny Depp, swashbucklers pack theaters. We know we shouldn’t, but we love mayhem on the high seas.

This documentary features environmental pirates chasing commercial pirates. It’s quite a chase —and quite a battle when they meet. At the Edge of the World is a riveting voyage.

Two ships set out for Antarctica with one mission: Stop the poaching of whales by Japanese hunters posing as researchers using whatever guerilla-style tactics it takes. The ships spend 50 grueling days and nights on the unforgiving, yet beautiful, Ross Sea searching for whales and illegal whalers. The filmmaker, Dan Stone, captures it all as they endure danger, loneliness, seasickness, brutal cold, icebergs, confrontation and perhaps some second thoughts about their mission.

And they should have doubts, the task is very dangerous and the results are difficult to measure. We (and they) spend time considering whether or not what they are doing is worth the danger. Are their tactics the best way to save whales?
This film does so many things so well. Gorgeous cinematography, much of it aerial, is used to show a rarely visited world. Questions are posed that are difficult to answer as we are put into the parkas and rubber boots of interesting people. I have little doubt that At the Edge of the World will captivate audiences and become one of the favorites at this year’s festival.

As you exit the theater, you might turn to your partner and ask about ends justifying the means, or the boundaries of justice. This crew of eco-warriors goes overboard – literally.

Go with them. — Bob Carson

At the Edge of the World. Friday, March 20, 6:45 p.m.; Saturday, March 21, 11:00 a.m. Antarctica, Australia, USA - 92 minutes

Film Festival: Try It, You'll Like It

Remember when you discovered something slightly exotic, extremely interesting and great fun, but when you attemped to introduce this new passion to friends they looked at you as if you were unstable? (Sushi, let’s say.) You wait until the next time you meet, and revisit the subject with another plea. Finally, the person attempts to shut you up by mumbling that they might give it a try. But they don’t. So you shrug and give up.

Unfortunately, I continue to pester. This annoying persistence is a possible explanation for my incredibly shrinking list of friends on MySpace. Nevertheless, six years after my original journey to the Cleveland International Film Festival, some of you must be listening: Attendance was at a near record last year despite a blizzard and water main break.
But if you're still a holdout, here are four good reasons to go (besides I might stop pestering you).

Free and convenient parking. Park your car below Tower City; get your ticket validated at the Film Fest desk and drive out anytime you want. Give me free, convenient, downtown parking, and I will watch slush melt, a Yoko Ono concert or a lecture on fruit fly migration. Make me pay to park and I will not even meet Halle Berry for coffee.

It’s an adventure. When you attend films such as “The Wedding Crashers” or “Die Hard 9,” you know what you're getting after the 20 minutes of trailers. You likely have seen the majority of this feature in previous promos. It is possible you could write this movie. However, when the lights go down on “Serbian Franco Mondo La Faollies de Garu” you will be surprised. Often the surprise will be positive, occasionally the very opposite, but you will exit the theater feeling like a sophisticated scamp.

Foreign films don't include LeBron. Film Festival movies rarely have the staples of traditional American cinema: beautiful, recognizable actors. Modern movies are edited to allow a maximum of .07 seconds per scene, lest the viewer lose attention. Many movies come with a loud soundtracks that cue the viewer what to feel with the subtlety of a LeBron James dunk. In most festival films, you find performers so physically normal that you leave feeling like Brangelina. You will see homes and countries that will inspire you to kiss your front door. (You might even see something from your homeland, since the festival has a strong selection of films from Central and Eastern Europe.) The pacing will be slower, the packaging less slick. One caveat: You may be required to read and to think, impediments to some film fans.

It’s easy. Look on the Web site and select a film (there are 140 features and 177 shorts, including eight films by or about Clevelanders). Drive (or take the RTA) to Tower City, park your car, report to the Film Fest desk for the blessed parking ticket validation ceremony. Get your movie ticket. Go to movie. Repeat as necessary.
And you didn’t even have to eat raw fish.

— Bob Carson

(Check out our blog daily for previews of upcoming films playing at the 33rd Cleveland International Film Festival.)

A Dad's view of the Jonas Brothers concert

Yes, I went to the Jonas Brothers concert last night at Blossom. (Embarrassingly enough, this is only the third concert I've ever attended. The other two were Donnie Iris & the Cruisers back in high school, and Live maybe 10 years ago. Let's just say, I'm not musically inclined.)

Surprisingly, it was a good time, maybe because my girls (8 and 6) had so much fun. They're not Jonas obsessed like most of the crowd (they're a little more in the Naked Brothers Band demographic), but knew most of the words and screamed with the best of 'em. The collective squeal when the JoBros hit the stage was enough to raise the boy-band dead (guess that's how New Kids on the Block will play The Q on Oct. 3).

Here are some of my favorite observations from the concert:

• The mom wearing a T-shirt that read: "It's my 40th birthday, and I'm here with my daughter."
• The dad who bought a huge nonalcoholic blended drink and then went to the bar to order a few shots of rum to pour into it. "I'm not quite sure how to charge you," said the girl behind the bar. "Honestly, I don't care what you charge me," he responded. Then he added: "I'll have a beer, too."
• The dad in line for beer wearing large ear plugs. (Man, I should have thought of that!)
• A dad nearby who screamed, "I love you, Nick" after his daughter yelled the same thing about five straight times.
• A small group of moms gathered at the very back of Blossom, behind the beer pavillion, reading magazines, doing counted cross-stitch and generally avoiding the chaos.
• Apparently 12-year-old girls love Ohio State too. Several text messages of O-H drew an I-O and squeals for mentions of the Buckeyes.
• The preteen girls with their homemade T-shirts that read: "Tack me backstage." Sorry, but if you can't spell it, you have no business being backstage. Actually, you have no business being backstage anyway.

JoBros rule. <3
(Or something like that.)