“Brooklyn’s Finest” is an epic tragedy of basic cable proportions. It feels like it belongs within the confines of your home screen, with the remote close at hand so you can switch back to “Dancing with the Stars” or “Jersey Shore” after the commercials — either one would be a better option.

The 20-ft. tall screen of the movie theater does the film no favors, amplifying its ho-hum camera work and cruddy lighting. Slumming it are a trio of well-respected actors — Richard Gere, Don Cheadle and Ethan Hawke — who all look like they’re just trying to discreetly pick up a paycheck, and would probably prefer it if you saw “Alice in Wonderland” this weekend.

Gere is a 20-year cop on the verge of retirement from an unremarkable career. He likes the drinky and doesn’t care at all about his job, but has a soft spot for a hooker in a subplot that had me thinking even “Pretty Woman 2” would’ve been better than this.

Cheadle is a cop working deep undercover who is having a difficult time turning against the drug dealers he’s been rubbing shoulders with, including one played by Wesley Snipes, who looks astonished that he’s in a film that will actually be theatrically released. Me too, Wesley. Me too.

Hawke is a cop in the drug enforcement division, and he’s got a bunch of kids and a sick wife stuck in a mold-filled house. To write the check to get them out of there, he steals any cash lying around during drug busts.

The three don’t know each other, but their paths intersect around the edges. Everybody thinks they’re Robert Altman.

Director Antoine Fuqua is no Altman. He’s not even much of a Fuqua anymore. The guy who directed Denzel Washington to an Oscar in “Training Day” seems to be looking to strike that fire again with the not dissimilar “Brooklyn’s Finest.” It’s got cops. They’re corrupt. They’re played by big stars. Close enough, right?

The cast almost uniformly sinks to the lowest common denominator. Gere just looks bored, as if mustering even a shred of feeling just wasn’t worth it.

Hawke tends to overact when he doesn’t care, and he’s all over the place with this yammering ham of a performance. There’s a fine line between the charming Hawke and the obnoxious one, but boy, is that line obliterated here.

But Cheadle, for the most part, is measured and respectable, and that must have been really hard sharing so many scenes with Snipes.

“Brooklyn’s Finest” attempts to pile on the catastrophe of corruption and incompetence, and it builds to a finale that strives for a Shakespearean or Greek level of tragedy, but it’s only then that its preposterousness is truly unleashed. It’s the kind of ending that would you have you rolling in the aisles if the previous 140 minutes hadn’t left you deadened to any feeling in your extremities.

After its likely brief run in theaters, expect to see “Brooklyn’s Finest” looped in endless repeats on TNT, where it can be further ignored for years to come.