“Based on a theory” (and not much else)
Smiley Face Killers is billed as a slasher “loosely based” on the Smiley Face murder theory, which is already a bit of a red flag. “Loosely based” in this case means: it has water, college dudes, and smiley face graffiti, and then mostly just wanders off to do its own thing in slow motion.
On paper, it’s got promising ingredients:
-
Tim Hunter directing (he’s done some solid TV work)
-
Bret Easton Ellis writing (yes, American Psycho Bret Easton Ellis)
-
Crispin Glover lurking under a hood (prime weirdo casting)
In practice, it’s like everyone showed up with a different movie in mind and nobody bothered to compare notes.
Plot: Guy Gets Stalked, Gaslit, and Then the Credits Roll
We open with a hooded killer in a white van abducting and murdering people while a smiley face appears nearby. That’s honestly a decent enough start: anonymous killers, creepy van, recurring symbol. Slasher 101.
Then we meet Jake: a college student, water polo player, and full-time walking red flag of untreated mental health issues. Jake starts receiving:
-
Maps with locations of past murders
-
Creepy texts and photos
-
General “you are definitely being stalked” signals
Instead of, say, going to the police, Jake mostly alternates between brooding, snapping at people, and staring at his phone like it owes him tuition money.
His girlfriend, Keren, thinks he’s off his psychiatric meds and having another episode. His friend Adam assumes someone jealous—probably Keren’s ex, Rob—is messing with him. And Jake just kind of… spirals in circles while the hooded stalker murders his roommate Devon right under his nose.
Eventually, Jake has a jealous meltdown at a party, pushes Keren, storms off, and is immediately scooped up by the masked crew in the white van. He’s sedated, partially drained of blood like a human Capri-Sun, briefly escapes long enough to accidentally get a gas station clerk and some teenagers killed, and then gets re-captured and murdered offscreen with all the emotional weight of a dropped grocery bag.
The killer squad dumps his body, spray-paints a smiley face, and the world decides Jake must’ve killed Devon. The film ends with the hooded figures stalking yet another victim, cheerfully implying this deeply underwhelming cycle continues.
That’s it. That’s the movie. If you were waiting for:
-
A reveal
-
A motivation
-
Any twist at all
Too bad. Enjoy the credits.
Jake: The World’s Most Passive Protagonist
Ronen Rubinstein does his best with Jake, but the script gives him about two modes:
-
Confused and anxious
-
Confused and yelling
This is supposed to be a story about a young man being terrorized while everyone around him dismisses his fear as mental illness. That could be powerful. Instead, Jake is written like a guy who half-remembers he’s in danger but keeps getting distracted by his own bad decisions and petty jealousy.
You want to root for him, but the film keeps making it hard:
-
He rarely takes decisive action.
-
When he does, it’s usually the worst possible choice.
-
His relationship drama with Keren plays like a mediocre campus soap.
By the time he’s strapped down in the van getting drained like a keg at a frat party, you’re not horrified so much as resigned. The killers are frighteningly efficient; Jake is frighteningly not.
Keren and Friends: Plot Devices, Assemble
Keren (Mia Serafino) is trying very hard to be the voice of reason, but the script only allows her to say some variation of:
-
“You’re off your meds.”
-
“You’re scaring me.”
-
“We need space.”
She’s less a character and more a mirror reflecting Jake’s instability. Her cheating ex, Rob, exists purely to stir jealousy and provide an obvious red herring. Adam, the best friend, is there to nod thoughtfully, shrug, and vanish when the script doesn’t need him.
Devon, the roommate, is basically a future corpse with a name tag.
There’s a vaguely interesting idea buried in this dynamic: nobody believing Jake because of his mental health history. But instead of exploring that, the film uses it as a convenient excuse to stall the plot and keep everyone ignoring the very obvious “I’m being stalked by someone who knows all the murder sites” situation.
Crispin Glover Under a Hood: Truly a Crime
Let’s talk about the most tragic waste here: Crispin Glover.
You have one of the most uniquely unsettling actors alive, a man who can make ordering coffee feel like a threat, and you… keep him in a hooded jacket with no lines.
He’s credited as “Hooded Figure,” and that’s about as deep as it gets. He:
-
Drives the van
-
Stares creepily
-
Does some murder logistics
That’s it. No monologue, no weird tics, no reveal, no explanation—nothing. He’s a glorified extra with a name actor paycheck, which is so on-brand for this movie it’s almost poetic.
Imagine hiring Crispin Glover and then deciding his face is a spoiler.
The Smiley Face Theory: From True-Crime Bait to Background Doodle
The movie is “loosely based” on the Smiley Face murder theory, which suggests a possible pattern of drownings and murders of young men with smiley face graffiti nearby. You might reasonably expect:
-
Some actual investigation
-
Questions about conspiracy vs. coincidence
-
Tension between police, families, and truth
Instead, the theory is basically:
-
“We left smiley faces near bodies.”
-
“We also printed maps with them.”
-
“Anyway, back to the slow stalking.”
There’s no deeper dive into motive, organization, or worldview. The killers aren’t zealots, cult members, or ideological freaks. They’re just… there, doing murder for reasons unknown, like the world’s most boring secret society.
Tone: Moody, Murky, and Weirdly Sleepy
For a slasher written by Bret Easton Ellis, you’d expect:
-
Sharp dialogue
-
Satire
-
Nasty wit
Instead, you get:
-
Long stretches of Jake wandering around
-
Repetitive texting sequences
-
Low-energy parties and arguments
The movie wants to be moody and psychological, but it mostly just feels sedated. Even the kills are strangely flat. The opening murders have a little tension, but once Jake’s abduction starts, the film almost seems afraid to commit to either full-on horror or psychological thriller.
The violence is brutal in concept—blood-draining, abduction, collateral deaths—but it’s shot in a way that never quite lands emotionally or viscerally. It’s like watching CCTV footage of a horror film.
Mental Illness as Plot Lube
Jake’s psychiatric meds are mentioned constantly:
-
Keren brings them up in every serious conversation.
-
People use them to dismiss his fear.
-
The film keeps nudging you: “Is he just paranoid?”
But the story does almost nothing thoughtful with that angle. There’s no exploration of what it’s like living with that diagnosis, how it shapes Jake’s reality, or how vulnerable that makes him to actual hostile forces.
Instead, it’s a cheap narrative tool:
-
To make other characters ignore him
-
To manufacture relationship drama
-
To let the script avoid giving him real allies
By the end, the whole mental health thread feels less like a theme and more like a lazy way to keep everyone being wrong at maximum efficiency.
No Reveal, No Catharsis, No Point
Most slashers at least pay you off with:
-
A killer unmasked
-
A twist in motive
-
A Final Girl/Boy moment of triumph or tragedy
Smiley Face Killers gives you:
-
No explanation of the killers
-
No insight into why they chose Jake
-
No satisfying narrative closure
Jake dies. Everyone assumes he killed his roommate. The killers move on to their next target. The world shrugs.
You could argue this is nihilistic realism: evil is random, systems fail victims, killers vanish into the crowd. In a better film, that might land. Here, it just feels like the writers got bored and decided ambiguity was easier than actually finishing the story.
Final Verdict: Smiley Face, Frowny Audience
Smiley Face Killers had everything it needed to be at least a solid cult slasher:
-
Real-life mystery as inspiration
-
A creepy masked killer squad
-
A protagonist whose mental health makes him vulnerable and disbelieved
-
Crispin Glover as a lurking threat
Instead, it squanders nearly all of it on a meandering, half-baked, emotionally flat slog where the only real mystery is why anyone greenlit this without a second draft.
If you’re in the mood for a slasher about young men being hunted by a sinister group with unsettling masks, there are better options. If you’re in the mood for Bret Easton Ellis horror, just rewatch American Psycho and skip the part where Patrick Bateman becomes a shy van driver.
The only real theory Smiley Face Killers proves is this: if you slap a smiley face on a mess, it’s still a mess.
