STIFF's evening show at Grand Illusion Cinema last Sunday brought a mixed bag of films to a nearly packed house. A Man, Buried (which I previewed in an earlier Movie Biz Buzz) started things off on the right note, with viewers enjoying this magical, darkly comic fable. While Tacoma's Rick Walters, who produced the short, didn't attend the screening, writer-director Jesse Watson, cinematographer Chris Taylor, and lead actor Tony Doupe all shared their experience during a brief Q&A.

Doupe in particular had the challenging task of playing two versions of the same character who, after a little editing abracadabra, appear and interact on screen simultaneously. When asked which "Kyle" he preferred exploring, he responded, "I usually get cast as cops and creeps, so to play a non-creep (the "good" Kyle), a straight-up kind of guy - I never get to play guys like that...So that was fun to play."

As a first-year STIFF volunteer, Tacoma's Ashley Cozine has got to witness first-hand not only her community's growing presence within festivals like this with works like A Man, Buried, but in the larger Seattle film scene.

"I'm excited about it," she says. "There's a big group of Tacoma filmmakers that I think are going to have a lot of potential to exceed everyone's expectations." She appears later this week in STIFF selections Till Death Do Us Part (May 9) and Dessert and Suicide (May 10).

After Buried came Knot., a cine-quickie which involved roughly 3 spoken words, 2 guys, one necktie, and zero story. The end. Bye. The audience lets out a collective "did we just get punk'd?" uncomfortable laugh during the credits. I still can't figure out how STIFF gave this anti-film the green light.

The feature QWERTY suffers from the opposite problem: plot overload. One story line follows QWIRKY heroine Zoe Rezillo's predictable path to the National Scrabble Championship in Chicago (gonna need a montage!), and her triumphant win. (Sorry to spoil the ending, but the film's first scene pretty much spells this out.)

QWERTY's other unconnected subplot, her QWERKY romance with suicidal Marty Huckhound, asks viewers to suspend everything they know about human relationships. Maybe these things just work differently in Chi-Town, because over there, ambitious, attractive, sock-puppet-knitting gals like Zoe (did I mention her QWURKINESS??) apparently fall head over heels for unemployed manic-depressives like Marty, who barely has time to wash his hair since he can only think of plunging into the nearest freezing river and drinking sweet, sweet oblivion.

Zoe's devotion to him spits at believability and plain reason. Within days after meeting she finds Marty a job and invites him to move in. What's that? The crazy vagrant from the train station wants to live here too? Pick him up! I'll make him a sandwich! To borrow one character's phrasing, "Oh my Three's Company."

QWORKEEE Zoe even made up her own ador-ugh-ble nickname for her charity case, I mean new disheveled boyfriend: Mucky! I think A.V. Club's "head writer-person" Nathan Rabin would label this type of movie character "Manic Pixie Dream Girl," a girl utterly convinced her dimpled smile and charm will chase all her boy's blues away.

Do I sound a teensy bit annoyed with QWERTY? Did the girl at the bar after the screening invite me to dinner this week when I made a total heinie of myself? But the film told me she would!

Another drink, barkeep. And make it a STIFF one.

Don't let my ranting stop you from catching a few festival flicks before the Closing Night Party on Saturday, May 12. For tickets and information visit http://trueindependent.org/.