During “In the Grey,” underworld characters call each other “clever” so many times that the viewer starts to wonder if these trigger-happy people, as well as the man who wrote their repetitive lines, really are clever at all. 

Their limited vocabularies wouldn’t suggest as much.

Dare I say they all sound like idiots?

That man with the uninspired pen is, of course, the guy responsible for “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” — Guy Ritchie, the British writer and director who’s enjoyed a career resurgence thanks to entertaining crime thrillers.

“The Gentlemen” was his best, “Wrath of Man” and “The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare” were fun and I’d rather not talk about “Operation Fortune: Ruse de guerre.”

With “In the Grey,” Ritchie has stalled out. While he’s made a good-looking movie with a hot cast, the palm trees and parallel bone structures only get you so far. I’m sure Eiza González, Henry Cavill, Jake Gyllenhaal all had a fabulous month in sunny Tenerife, but joining them in turning on their out-of-office email replies are plot surprises and cinematic thrills.

There is not a second of “Grey” that isn’t totally predictable. You’ve seen every frame before, and done a lot better.

Yes, the “Mission: Impossible” and James Bond films are also variations on a well-worn theme. There’s no need to reinvent the shootout. But those all at least attempt, with escalating stunts, effects and scenery, to outdo what came before them. Richie reduces, reuses, recycles.  

And that does not equal excitement. The movie begins with about an hour of talky table setting before any significant action happens, which ultimately isn’t explosive enough to justify the extended run-up to a bit of gunfire and a few bombed buildings.

The film’s damp squib of a conflict? An unpaid loan.

González plays an Olivia Pope type named Rachel Wild, a high-end debt collector and the smartest person in any room. This description strains credulity a tad because the actress cannot believably say a word of the overwritten legalese and finance fine print she’s given.

She’s like if I commentated on a hockey game. He’s hit the puck!

Rachel’s latest gig is retrieving $1 billion that was loaned to Salazar, a generic sleazebag vaguely played by Carlos Bardem, by a New York firm run by stuffy Bobby (a wasted Rosamund Pike). They want payment.

So Rachel’s muscles, Sid (Cavill) and Bronco (Gyllenhaal), set up camp on Salazar’s not-quite-private island for a month to plan an elaborate mission of violence and vehicles to get the dirty job done.

The title, which sounds like a brooding Icelandic mystery novel, is in reference to Rachel’s fuzzy mix of legal and very illegal business tactics. Yet it comes to describe most of what we experience.

Sid and Bronco’s names, for instance, would imply they’re an animated duo. Not really. Nor are they particularly imposing.

In the same way the boss’ ramblings about shell companies and frozen assets sound unconvincing, so too does Bronco’s threat that Salazar’s lawyer will have to wipe what’s left of his bodyguard “off the wall” if he fights him. Sure, Jake. 

OK, I still wouldn’t pick a fight with Superman.

Ritchie has the team explain their multiphase scheme in windy narrations with montages — think “Oceans 11” — only they tend to turn a simple story much into something more convoluted than it needs to be. Ritchie loves to crowd the screen with charts and lists like he’s directing “A Beautiful Mind.” 

And the group’s ideas are not all that creative anyway. Hiding a getaway car in a cave, installing a zipline over a gorge, putting spikes on the road to blow out tires, duh.

When the final battle commences, pitting Rachel’s six men against Salazar’s 70-strong force, the combat is mostly sniper fire with vast distance between the shooters. Not many punches are thrown, and the motorcycle and helicopter chases across the island are pedestrian.

Missing throughout is the humor. In his career, Ritchie has gone full badass mode, a la “Wrath of Man,” and has leaned heavy on comedy, as in “The Gentlemen.” “In The Grey” is, well, in the gray. The leads have some so-so jokes they don’t do much with, and their characters are bland. You long for Hugh Grant to burst in and impart some personality.

No such luck. The closest we come to some quirk is Cavill briefly pretending to be drunk while wearing a sombrero. !Ay caramba!