A Serial Killer’s Guide to Life

In a world where self‑help slogans flicker from coffee shop chalkboards to late‑night radio, Lou Farnt drifts through a life weighed down by low confidence and a domineering mother. Her days are a collage of borrowed affirmations and restless yearning for a breakthrough that feels forever out of reach. The film’s tone hovers between dark humor and unsettling realism, turning the glossy veneer of motivational culture into a mirror that reflects both hope and hollowness.

At a fleeting encounter during a seminar, Lou is drawn to Val Stone, a charismatic figure who presents herself as a transformative guide. Val’s confidence is magnetic, promising the kind of radical change that Lou has been craving. Their connection feels like the missing piece of a puzzle neither fully understands, setting the stage for a partnership that is as intriguing as it is precarious.

Together they embark on a road‑bound exploration of alternative healing practices, moving from one eccentric retreat to the next. The journey is framed by a series of quirky, almost ritualistic settings—a wilderness camp, a house devoted to “sonic vibration,” and a workshop that mixes laughter with introspection. These stops serve as both backdrop and catalyst, amplifying Lou’s inner turmoil while teasing the possibility that the answers she seeks might lie outside the conventional comfort of home.

Through sharply observed dialogue and a visual style that blends the mundane with the bizarre, the film probes the thin line between self‑improvement and self‑destruction. As Lou and Val navigate this labyrinth of modern mysticism, the audience is left wondering how far one will go when the promise of a better self becomes entangled with forces that are far darker than any bestseller could anticipate.

Last Updated: November 25, 2025 at 14:45