Dore Mann, Frownland

It takes daring to build a film around a discombobulated loser who sells coupons and can barely splutter out a sentence; it takes vision to make his desperation ours. Frownland, Ronald Bronstein’s startling comedy, is like a mumblecore Eraserhead directed by John Cassavetes. It’s a look at a New York ”bohemia” that’s passed its expiration date. You may not realize that Dore Mann, who’s like the harmless twit son of Son of Sam, is acting, but when he lurches through a nightmare party as ”Jailhouse Rock” echoes, he’s as poignant as a modern-day Hunchback of Notre-Dame. A-

Related Articles