Frownland, Ronald Bronstein’s award winning, very nearly unbearably bleak ode to the white blind rage inspired by the mundane, will be released tomorrow on DVD by Factory 25. It’s rare that I get a chance to drop the phrases “award winning” and “unbearably bleak” in such quick succession in conversation about the same film, but Frownland is a especially rare bird. Essentially a series of vignettes on the topic of hostility, particularly its manifestation amongst young, broke New Yorkers too mired in dreary, crippling solipsism to enjoy the dubious protections of the trappings of counterculture, Frownland’s greatest achievement is an absence: flipping the protagonist/antagonist relationship on its head several times, it deliberately deprives the audience of a comfort zone.  I watched Frownland last week for the first time in awhile, and couldn’t help but think about how odd it is that this film impressed awards bodies, even the ostensibly broad-minded indie factions at SXSW, the Indie Spirits and the Gothams. It’s a testament to Bronstein’s total commitment to drawing out the toxicity of human interaction that smart viewers don’t recoil from a film that amounts to a spit-take to the face.
All that said, Frownland is actually fun when viewed with the right crowd — once one person picks up on its sick humor and audibly responds, the laughing gets contagious — so pick up the Factory 25 DVD and invite over some friends. If you go for the limited edition package, you’ll be rewarded for your hospitality by a wealth of extras: a copy of the hand-scrawled comic-book drawn by Mary Bronstein’s character Laura; “a booklet of an insufferably long-winded email exchange between [roommate characters] Keith and Charles”; and a vinyl record of Paul Grimstad’s Moroder-freaked soundtrack, including tracks with titles like “Au Hasard Frankenstein” and “Impossible Piece of Shit.” Details here.