“Murder by Numbers” (Warner Bros., R) is as methodical and intense as an Alfred Hitchcock film.

The film does more than play “who dunnit” with the audience – it opens the door to the minds of abandoned youth.

Two kids systematically plan the demise of one random woman. The kids’ plan is in the works for months and it’s perfect. But one detective is determined to uncover the mystery, if only she could overcome the fears of her past.

Cassie Mayweather (Sandra Bullock) is an FBI field agent who struggles to discover clues that take this seemingly open-and-shut case to new depths.

Richard Hayword (Ryan Gossling) is gripping as the small town’s rich kid who’s used to having everything and controlling everyone. Justin Pendleton (Michael Pitt II) blurs the line between dementia and the outsider’s obsession with being noticed.

The film lasts more than two hours, which makes viewing the late show hard. But given the performances of Gossling and Pitt II, it’s worth every minute.

Bullock is, well, Bullock. She takes a turn from her slapstick comedy angles and approaches the role as seriously as we can take it. As Detective Mayweather, she’s seen many things and had a past case that continues to haunt her.

The two kids’ brilliant scheme rolls smoothly as the FBI looks at the school janitor, whom the kids framed for the murder. The friends’ loyalty toward each other and the pact they made together become shaken over a girl that the outsider, Justin, becomes involved with. Agnes Bruckner plays the high school girl who takes the heart of Justin and drives an emotional stake through Richie Rich’s heart. Mayweather disregards the profile of a serial killer and shakes her gun at the two boys. She’s quickly suspended from the force for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.

The kids grow cocky as they begin to play cat-and-mouse tricks with the FBI. Even when they are brought in for questioning, they don’t bring a lawyer because of their need to prove their superiority. Let the mind games begin.

Mayweather gets under the skin of the boys while they return the favor. Ben Chaplin plays her worrisome partner. The two are rather bland in their interaction as Mayweather sleeps with her detective partner and quickly gives him the boot.

Why?

Because she can’t deal with relationships.

Do we really care that she can’t handle relationships?

Nope.

Chaplin just stands there wishing he was in a Calvin Klein ad. He’s the loyal follower to the “profile,” while Mayweather is the yang to the “profile’s” yin. There’s a tenacity to Mayweather that keeps her close on the tail of the kids as the plot twists and turns. As she tries to grab hold of the boys, they slip through her hands again and again. Escape for the boys is close, unless one of them cracks and gives up the other.

This film serves as a kaleidoscope of emotions and imagery, jumping over to the dark side of the tracks with its slightly disturbing tone.

The thought of diabolical murderers who live in suburbia and attend high school makes you wonder what kind of food is on the lunch room menu.