Chris Redmond, co-founder of the Burundi Film Center, with some of the program's filmmakers. Credit: Courtesy Of The Independents Film Festival

Chris Redmond, co-founder of the Burundi Film Center, with some of the program’s filmmakers. Credit: Courtesy Of The Independents Film Festival

Like most young filmmakers, University of Tampa alum Tim Compton has learned that following his dreams entails a dose or two of harsh reality. He knows what it's like to fork over hundreds of dollars to feed cast and crew (all the while thanking his lucky stars that they volunteered to help him make his movie). Or to make do with a DIY camera dolly when the money isn't there to rent one. And he most certainly knows the disappointment of submitting a film to a festival and hearing nothing in response.

Now a graduate student in motion picture production at the University of Miami with several shorts under his belt, Compton finds encouragement in the Independents' Film Festival. For two years in a row, the Tampa-based showcase has featured his work. While other festivals might see Compton at the bottom of the status ladder — and therefore of little interest — IFF lives by a more inclusive creed. And this year, the ambitious student's 13-minute thriller, No One Doubts the Camera Eye (co-directed by Sean Malone), caught the interest of the festival's judges.

"They really seem to go out of their way to help the little guy," Compton says appreciatively of the IFF organizers.

As the fest celebrates its 15th anniversary this week, don't expect any celebrities to roll into town (though a Thursday night party invites guests to dress up as their favorite movie star). A decidedly grassroots affair, the event quietly holds true to the promise of its name, highlighting a broad range of genuinely independent films for a local audience accustomed to multiplex fare. During a handful of theatrical screenings this week in and around downtown Tampa, Bay area audiences will have a chance to watch dozens of mini- and micro-budget productions by filmmakers from around the globe.

Even more films — 99 in all, selected from 175 submissions — are being broadcast on the Education Channel, IFF's parent organization, and simulcast online at indiefilmfest.us during weekends in September.

Selected by a panel of community judges (visit the festival's website for a complete roster), IFF's movies span genres that don't always find a warm welcome at festivals, including student and experimental films. The filmmakers represented run the gamut from practiced professionals to first-timers, and hail from as near as Tampa and as far away as East Africa. The audience members are just as diverse, says festival co-coordinator Laura Tierney. While a family in Lutz tunes in on the Education Channel, viewers from Japan may be watching online. That kind of exposure means a lot to an emerging filmmaker like Compton, who is now at work on his thesis project and gunning for next year's Miami International Film Festival.

If a common theme can be drawn from the festival's celluloid smorgasbord — a combination of short and feature-length projects including Sunshine State documentaries, animated shorts, dramas, comedies and more — it has to do with that uniquely indie marriage of compelling, under-sung subjects and filmmakers bound and determined to give them a voice.

Five of the most intriguing offerings are narrative shorts produced by the Burundi Film Center. Launched last summer in Burundi, the East African country just south of Rwanda, the Canadian-led effort trains students aged 18-25 in multimedia production and encourages them to grapple with contemporary African issues via film. In some cases, the filmmakers themselves are refugees from war-torn regions like Congo; in others, ethnic strife becomes the subject matter. Two mini-documentaries that will also air as part of the festival provide behind-the-scenes glimpses of the project.

In an interesting parallel, David Muñoz's documentary Flowers of Rwanda tells the story of a film festival at the center of efforts to maintain peace in post-genocide Rwanda, where survivors still live next door (literally, in some cases) to people who killed their family members. Watching films produced by his fellow citizens, a young Rwandan man attests, gives him hope for a better future.

Closer to home, The Church on Dauphine Street, documents the reconstruction of a Catholic church in post-Katrina New Orleans. As a group of volunteers from Seattle tackles the church over the course of three weekends, a crew of filmmakers combines their stories with those of church staff, parishioners and local laborers whose lives have been devastated by the storm. (Wednesday night's screening, the IFF Cinematic Realism Series, features one of the Burundi films, Flowers of Rwanda, and The Church on Daupine Street.)

If you attend only one festival event, check out Friday's "Best of the Fest," when IFF bestows 13 awards — best animation, indie short film, student documentary, etc. — on filmmakers at an awards ceremony and screening at the Tampa Theatre, followed by a talkback session with the filmmakers.

Like many worthy nonprofits in Tampa Bay, IFF's existence is under threat. Last year, the Hillsborough Board of County Commissioners yanked the Education Channel's funding, leaving the long-term fate of both the channel and IFF up in the air. Fueled now by private donations, a recent grant and partnerships like one with University of Tampa, where several screenings will take place, the festival is struggling to raise money just as the economy tanks and more local nonprofits find themselves in the same boat. A fundraiser on Thurs., Sept. 18 — a $30-a-head celebrity look-a-like contest — may help with the festival's future, as will the number of people who tune in via TV or online and mail a check. What keeps the staff going, Tierney says, is hearing from past alumni like Compton that winning recognition at IFF has inspired them to soldier on as filmmakers.

With any luck, IFF will persevere, too.