Tacoma has never been lacking in passion. Those who know and love this place are constantly fighting for it. The effects of these efforts aren’t always immediately noticeable, but the final product is a town on the edge — the edge of making it big, of finding its footing in the shadow of Seattle. Tacoma is not a mini-Seattle nor is it Seattle’s blue-collar little brother. We’re a peer, or worse, a competitor. And though it may take who knows how many years to be on Seattle’s level, Tacoma is growing and changing shape. It’s becoming an honest to God city, and Seattle would do well to take caution.

An important step forward in the development of Tacoma came three years ago when Erik Hanberg and Shawn Sylvian formed the Tacoma Film Festival. For the Grand Cinema’s managing director and artistic director, respectively, the festival was the end result of their time in service to the Grand — a kind of Hail Mary thrown before they were unfortunately terminated. Their years at the Grand were fruitful, sometimes messy, but often passionate. Under their direction, the Grand created the 72-Hour Film Festival, showcased midnight movies, and hosted classes for the study of film, among other accomplishments. In the interest of full disclosure, I must say that I had the pleasure of working for them during this period, and though at times it felt chaotic, I consider it to be the best time in my short life. Although Hanberg and Sylvian had to go, the festival lives on as their legacy.

In their absence, their positions were unified into one title, executive director, and Philip Cowan took the helm. In the ensuing years under Cowan’s leadership, the Tacoma Film Festival didn’t exactly blow up, but like Tacoma’s other endeavors, it has grown steadily. What started as some 50 films shown over a week in four venues has evolved into about 130 films in seven venues. Cowan says attendance has grown by a few hundred people each year, which may not be mind-blowing, but it’s these little steps that matter. It may sound grandiose to bring this up, but let’s not forget how Sundance started: small crowds meeting in shabby theaters in a tiny Utah town that no one had ever heard of. In just over 30 years, it’s become a behemoth.

The attention that TFF has gathered has grown as well. Over 300 films were submitted this year from all around the world. The films, though bound to vary in quality (it’s a festival fact), are sure to paint a broad tapestry of art and opinion in our world.

As I mentioned earlier, over 300 films were submitted to the Grand for this year’s film festival. In charge of parsing these films was a crack team of about 15 people — mostly volunteers in addition to some paid staff — who made up the selection committee. Every film was watched and reviewed by two people to account for different tastes. If both people rated it highly, it was likely accepted; in the case that the reviewers disagreed, a third reviewer was brought in to act as a tiebreaker. The process is arduous, but Cowan is thankful for the increase in films submitted.

“We have more films submitted each year,” he says, “so there’s an opportunity to get more films that are solid.”

Unlike the way some festivals may function, TFF allows itself to be built based on the quality of the films. There’s no emphasis on features over shorts or vice versa. “I don’t want to force in movies that aren’t as good because they fit ‘feature’ or ‘short’ or something,” Cowan adds.

In an attempt to distinguish itself from the rest of the festivals littered across the country, TFF has made an effort in the past couple of years to focus more on local talent. As exciting as it is to see films brought to Tacoma from far corners of the globe, it’s a particular treat to see the talent that lives in our own backyard. Washington’s local music scene is well established, but it’s surprising and very encouraging to know our film community is thriving as well.

I’ve had the opportunity to speak with the makers of four films that will be shown at the festival: two full-length documentaries, two short fictions, all with drastically different messages to convey. Tracy Rector began March Point with the intention of exposing the pollution of Snohomish land, but it became a sort of coming of age story that follows three teen-age filmmakers as their eyes are opened to environmental issues. The film eventually finds them in Washington, D.C., where they present their findings to Congress. Terry Kegel has traveled around the world, and in I Speak Soccer he documents his experience with and the importance of pickup soccer matches. Of the countries he lived in, he focuses on Thailand, Brazil and Nigeria, showing how these soccer matches served to give him a home in a foreign land and to unite him with his new neighbors over a common interest. These subjects are passions that have consumed these local filmmakers; their films’ exhibitions are not in the interest of getting them noticed but rather stem from a powerful desire to share their stories.

Even the fiction films have a passion that drives them. Steve Riehl’s Zeitnot explores solitude, the first in a projected trilogy about the subject. It uses a combination of live-action and stop-motion to depict a lonesome man who begins playing chess against an unknown source that sends mysterious letters containing chess moves. As the days go on, it becomes clear that the game has higher stakes than he thought. In It Don’t Rain on Sunny Days, Randy Sparks and Joe Rosati share the story of an unlucky schlub who wins the lottery only to have his life get even worse in the aftermath. These films are made by people who call filmmaking their profession (or semi-profession), and that’s a ballsy thing to do.

Of the films I’ve had the chance to see, my favorite is Missing the Boat. This sweet, but slightly psychotic short from Australia tells the story of a woman trying to find her soul mate. It features a twist that I was delighted to have not seen coming. For my money, the shorts are where it’s at. To take a brief peek into the minds of genuinely creative people is rewarding, regardless of whether you care for all of the films. To paraphrase a terminally played out platitude: Don’t like the short? Wait five minutes, and it’ll change.

As the years go on, more people seem to lose hope for Tacoma. They wish and hope and wish and hope and wait and wait and wait. Change never seems to come. True, this town can be discouraging. But when something as promising as the Tacoma Film Festival comes along, it’d be a crime for you — for all of us — not to embrace it.

The Tacoma Film Festival. Can you just say those words out loud?

It’s real, it’s ours, and it’s not going anywhere.

Tacoma Film Festival

Presented by The Grand Cinema
When: Thursday, Oct. 1-Thursday, Oct. 8
Where: The Grand Cinema, 606 S. Fawcett Ave.; Annie Wright School, 827 N. Tacoma Ave.; Tacoma Art Museum, 1701 Pacific Ave.; First United Methodist Church, 621 S. Tacoma Ave.; Tacoma School of the Arts, 1118 S. Commerce St.; UWT Carwein Auditorium, Keystone Building room 102, 1900 S. Commerce St.; Blue Mouse Theater, 2611 N. Proctor St.
Tickets: Single $8.50, $7 Grand members, $6.50 matinee, senior, student, military, $5 member matinee. Opening night $17, $15 members. All-festival pass $110. Weekend pass $40. Awards brunch $10, $8 members. Closing night $15, $13 members.
Information: 253.572.6062, www.tacomafilmfestival.com

Opening Night
Thursday, Oct. 1 at Annie Wright’s Kemper Theater
Gala and food at 6:30 p.m., films at 8 p.m.
 
Friday Night
Premier film North Face at the Blue Mouse Theater
Friday, Oct. 2, 6:30 p.m.

Saturday Night
Premier film Spooner at The Grand Cinema
Saturday, Oct. 3, 6:30 p.m. Meet director Drake Doremus and screenwriter Lindsay Stidham after the movie during a post film discussion hosted by Warren Etheredge of The Warren Report
 
Closing Night
Thursday, Oct. 8 at The Grand Cinema
Film The Immaculate Conception of the Little Dizzle at 6:30 p.m. Meet Director David Russo during a post film discussion hosted by Warren Etheredge of The Warren Report, plus food provided by the Adriatic Grill.