D

Just another in the apparently endless stream of rotten road-comedy rom-coms being cranked out by Hollywood, “The Bounty Hunter” proves that Andy Tennant (“Fool’s Gold”) is a director whose work you should avoid. It’s also persuasive evidence that Gerard Butler is terribly overexposed—in terms of number of pictures if not bare-chest scenes—and that Jennifer Aniston’s shtick is growing increasingly tired.

The premise is one of those “oh, what a coincidence!” gambits that are the stock-in-trade of cookie-cutter screenwriters. Divorced investigative reporter Nicole Hurley (Aniston) misses a court appearance on a traffic citation in order to meet the snitch she’s using to look into a possible police-related murder, and the judge revokes her bail. The assignment to track her down and take her into custody is passed by the bondsman (Jeff Garlin) to Milo Boyd (Butler), an ex-cop who just happens to be Nicole’s still-angry ex-husband. Can’t you just imagine the mix-ups, double-crosses and assorted farcical and action moments that happen on the way to their realization—dare I reveal it?—that they still love each other?

Actually, you probably can not just imagine the trajectory, but practically write the scenes yourself—if, that is, you can pen nonsense plotting and inane dialogue. They involve a clueless co-worker (Jason Sudeikis) who’s got an unrequited crush on Nicole; a harridan bookie (Cathy Moriarity) to whom Milo’s in debt, as well as her two boobish collectors; a nefarious tattoo parlor owner (Peter Greene); and a detective (Dorian Missick) who’s a friend of both Nicole and Milo. Carol Kane also shows up briefly as one of the proprietors at the gingerbread-style bed-and-breakfast where the couple honeymooned and where they just happen to show up while they’re on the lam from the villains. Whatever effect do you suppose the recollection of their old happiness has on their bickering?

The screenplay of “The Bounty Hunter” is every bit as generic as its title. Everything that happens has a prefabricated feel, with comic bits alternating with car chases and other bursts of physical business, and the dialogue Butler and Aniston toss at one another is supposed to be bright and quippy, but falls flat. It doesn’t help that there’s precious little chemistry between them, either. Sudeikis’ sad-sack suitor is subjected to a series of humiliations apparently designed to prove that that sort of guy should never try for a gal of Nicole’s attractiveness. Everybody else is wasted except for Christine Baranski, who has the good luck to play all of her scenes, except for one with Butler, alone (often as one end of a phone conversation) as Nicole’s show-biz mom. She brings a smidgen of class to what’s otherwise a witless concoction.

There’s not much to praise about the physical production, which has a tattered, cheesy look and some distinct continuity problems; Oliver Bokelberg’s camerawork is especially bland. So is George Fenton’s by-the-numbers score. Certainly when a movie resorts to playing “Stayin’ Alive” to give a chase scene some fizz at this late date, you can conclude that its level of invention has sunk to a new low.

To garble the current A&E series, “The Bounty Hunter” is a real dog.