Frownland

In the magazine this week, I write about the DVD release of “Frownland,” the first feature film by the young New York-based director Ronald Bronstein, which is about Keith Sontag, a young, traumatized man (hardly) living in Brooklyn. I discuss it in the clip below. It’s one of the first releases from the new company Factory 25, which is offering it in two editions—the regular DVD, and a DVD/LP limited-edition package. I don’t have a turntable anymore—I got rid of it when I sold my thousands of LPs about a decade and a half ago—and the only member of the magazine’s Goings On About Town department who’s got one is our intern Liz Dosta, who gave a listen and sends word about what’s on it:

The Frownland LP contains the original soundtrack—mostly dark and spastic electronic compositions that are as alarming as Keith himself. To listen to it alone is unsettling.

Alarming and unsettling, indeed. “Frownland” is one of the greatest nerve-jangles in the history of cinema; it’s also one of the best American independent films ever made. Its scant release is a scandal (one of many to afflict the independent-film scene in recent years); its home-video availability, cause for celebration.

P.S. The other side of the LP is blank of music (but inscribed with cartoon-like drawings). It reminds me of my favorite one-sided LP, Albert Ayler’s “Bells.” It, too, is available—on CD, and also, once again, on vinyl, from ESP-Disk.