I'm not sure if this movie really should fall under the Mumblecore heading, but it's definitely got my vote for one of the most strategically off-putting midnight movies of all time. And I mean that in the best possible way.
You've probably never met a more annoying person than Keith. If you did, you made sure to spend less than two minutes with him. And that's what most people in Frownland are trying to do -- get away from Keith -- be it his sorta-girlfriend, sorta-friend, sorta-boss, sorta-roommate or the unsuspecting suburbanites he sorta hits up door-to-door for Multiple Sclerosis donations. Keith doesn't have MS. What he does have is a lot of weird facial ticks, zero social skills and so much jibberish and paranoia floating around in his balding head that he is rendered inarticulate in nearly every interpersonal situation.
Being stuck in Keith's world for two hours is not for the faint of heart. It's sort of like being stuck in Eraserhead's without the great black and white cinematography or nifty 1920s organ music. In Frownland, you get ugly degraded color images and grating synthesizer music instead. I'd take an evening with a wailing Eraserbaby over this dude any day.