‘Informers’ fails to rise above darkness of story

Set in early ’80s Los Angeles, “The Informers” is populated with attractive, spoiled, drug-scarfing, sex-crazed rich people who have everything but cannot break through their miserable cocoons of ennui to appreciate it.

It’s almost a relief when one of the characters comes down with a deadly disease.

Based on the soulless novel by Bret Easton Ellis (“American Pyscho”), “The Informers” wastes some fine actors.

Movie producer William (Billy Bob Thornton) has been cheating on his morose wife (Kim Basinger) with an insecure TV anchorwoman (a miserably miscast Winona Ryder).

William’s son Graham (Jon Foster) thinks he loves his girlfriend, Christie (Amber Heard), but can’t commit; meanwhile he’s sharing her with pal Martin (Austin Nichols), who is also secretly getting it on with Graham’s mother.

There also are some half-baked subplots.

A repellant businessman (Chris Isaak ) takes his unwilling son (Lou Taylor Pucci) on a Hawaiian vacation, ostensibly so they can bond but more likely because Dad suspects Junior is gay and wants to see the kid in action.

Jaded, coke-addled British rock star Bryan Metro (Mel Raido) is addicted to violent sex and is always having to be pulled out of nasty messes by his manager (Rhys Ifans).

And then there’s a condominium doorman (the late Brad Renfro in his final role before overdosing) who is visited by his skuzzy uncle (Mickey Rourke), who has kidnapped a little boy off the street and plans to sell him to sex traffickers.

I’m not saying you can’t make a compelling movie about reprehensible, unlikable characters. Just that director Gregor Jordan (“Buffalo Soldiers,” “Ned Kelly”) has failed miserably.