Time Out says
It’s all very mumblecore: annoying and hard to watch. But ‘Frownland’ is compulsive, too. Not only the soundscape – taken from the discordant electronic compositions of Keith’s musician flatmate or the aural effluence of the suburban streets where he works as the world’s worst cold-caller – is deceptively artless; the performances are equally so. Of them, Mann’s is, not surprisingly, remarkably self-effacing and helps no end in giving this admittedly difficult film not only its black comic tone but also its deep, discomfiting emotional tug.
Cast and crew