Overview: In pursuit of a serial killer, an FBI agent uncovers a series of occult clues that she must solve to end his terrifying killing spree.

Verdict: Those expecting to walk out of writer-director Oz Perkins’ “Longlegs” feeling all warm and fuzzy on a nice, breezy summer day should probably look for an alternative activity. Because “Longlegs,” which is already in the conversation as one of the best movies of the year, is equal parts inspired by “Se7en” and “The Silence of the Lambs,” which means you’re more apt to leave the theater feeling, uh, not great.

But if that sounds like your vibe and your game for a maniacal, off-the-wall Nicolas Cage performance, not to mention a hip nineties aesthetic usually reserved for a David Fincher movie, “Longlegs” is a masterful exploration of building dread and anxiety from some truly disturbing circumstances.

Perkins (son to Another Perkins of “Psycho” which is notable here) has delivered what will no doubt be the eeriest movie of the summer. A tense, serial killer procedural that builds on the atmospheric qualities of the filmmakers best movies, including “Gretel & Hansel” and the underrated gem “The Blackcoat’s Daughter,” “Longlegs,” contrary to what media reports will tell you, isn’t the “scariest movie of all time,” but is slow and methodical in its approach to the material. It’s a fully realized piece of artistry with two commanding lead performances that guide us down an icky, unnerving rabbit hole.

Led by Makia Monroe, who feels like the de-facto leading lady of the indie horror scene following turns in “It Follows” and “Watcher,” plays Lee Harker, a strange and often distant FBI agent who is tasked with tracking down a killer who goes by the name Longlegs. But he doesn’t fit the average profile and, in fact, doesn’t even conduct the killings.

He manages to build lifelike dolls that are delivered to children on their birthdays (always on the 14th) and soon thereafter the fathers slaughter everyone in their family. Longlegs is never even at the crime scene. Harker feels a connection with him and the borderline satanic killings, but can’t quite figure out why.

As Longlegs, Cage is wonderfully demented and a strange character who moves in the shadows, takes the back roads of rural Oregon and screams at the top of his lungs. Sporting a high-pitched, crackling voice, a pale white face, and puffy prosthetics, Cage is borderline unrecognizable, but the actor keeps things unpredictable and helps usher in one of the best cinematic serial killers alongside greats like Hannibal Lector.

Perkins isn’t rewriting the genre playbook (and plays with familiar themes of the occult and trauma), but Cage gives it an edge and he’s wisely not overused in the movie. We don’t even see his face until about 50-minutes into the movie. He just looms in the background, like a bad sickness you can’t shake.

He’s matched by Monroe and a solid supporting turn from Blair Underwood (who I was thrilled to see on the big screen again) playing Harker’s boss, Carter who might not always trust his colleagues intuition, but is game to follow leads and hunches that, as the movie progresses, reveals some unnerving discoveries.