Boston Jewish Film Festival
(from the review of Passover Fever)

by Chris Radant

I thought it was uncomfortably warm the last time I attended a Passover Seder I must have had a touch of the fever. This was actually the first Passover I had ever observed, since I'm a non-Jew from Ohio, raised in a Lutheran Church. My Jewish boyfriend stopped me from snacking on the assortment of crackers, eggs, bitter herbs, nuts and apples, which I took to be Jewish appetizers. (Someone had already polished off the lamb shank.) Later, when everyone took turns reading, I became unnerved by the subject of "some people" running "the chosen people" out of town. When it was my turn to read, I was weepy and disoriented, so I blurted out an apology and sobbed into my napkin.

Now that IÍve screened the delightful film Passover Fever, I see that I behaved pretty much in a time-honored manner it seems that families all over the world celebrate holidays with a potpourri of long-hushed secrets, bitter admissions, full-frontal pouting, heartfelt cussing, tender reconciliations, unsolicited advice, lapses in taste, general befuddlement and way, way too much food.

(to read the full review, contact Chris Radant)

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