Frownland

Writer-director Ronald Bronstein's Frownland won a few awards following its 2007 release, which proves either that you can fool some of the people some of the time, or that the rest of us are dunderheads insensitive to the charms of this audacious, challenging work. At its heart is one of the most repugnant characters ever put on the screen—Keith Sontag (a relentless portrayal by Dore Mann in his one and only movie role), a twitching train wreck who can't articulate a single coherent thought, let alone navigate his way through day-to-day life. Keith's every social transaction—with a disturbed young woman who may or may not be his girlfriend, with the roommate who refers to him as “a diseased freak,” with a “friend” who can barely tolerate him, with his boss—is a nightmare, made all the more so by his complete ignorance of the fact that he wears out his welcome within the first 30 seconds. But Bronstein isn't out to make us feel comfortable. Made on the cheap, the film has a grainy look (it was blown up from 16mm to 35mm), harsh lighting, camerawork that favors extreme close-ups of unattractive people, and cacophonous music (courtesy of Paul Grimstad, who plays the roommate). As for the main character, some may feel sympathy, but many will find Keith far more pathetic than pitiable. Still, Frownland is nothing if not provocative, and for that reason it's recommended, albeit with reservations. (S. Graham)