Some people in Hollywood are less than happy with the last four years of American politics. Something to do with Obama not punishing the banks enough, I guess. So to right that wrong and pump the fire of righteous indignation back into the American people’s veins in time for election season (oops), the makers of “Killing Them Softly” decided to put 2008-era political radio on the soundtrack to almost every scene in their new gangster movie. It’s horrible.

The film starts with three bottom feeders planning and executing a robbery of an illegal poker game, framing the club’s owner (Ray Liotta), and throwing the New Orleans (but it could be anywhere) criminal economy out of whack. Jackie Cogan (Brad Pitt), a very collected hitman from somewhere else, flies in to murder everyone involved and restore order. Over the next hour and a half, he does so, to the sweet melodies of Obama, McCain, and Bush speeches.

I’m not nitpicking on some minor point here. It really is that bad. “Killing Them Softly” wants to be a dark crime comedy like “Reservoir Dogs” or “In Bruges,” but nothing kills the funny like unearned pretention. Imagine if Reagan’s “A Time For Choosing” speech played during the opening diner scene in “Pulp Fiction,” and you can see what I’m talking about. The immediate saturation of background political media ensures that the film is dead on arrival. It raises an eyebrow in the jarring opening credits, kills the tension in the gambling den robbery, and slips into practically every murder, beating, and conversation from there on. At some point, one starts wondering if the point isn’t that America is a corrupt business just like this mafia stuff, but that you turn into a sociopathic criminal if you follow the election cycles too closely. Why aren’t these mobsters listening to anything else?

No, it’s not otherwise good, or even okay. Directed by Andrew Dominik, the Aussie behind the sedate western “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford,” it lurches between overwrought scenes of cynical brutality and airless dialogue between people we don’t care about. When Dominik gets ahold of an image he likes, like Ray Liotta’s nasty wet hair as he takes a beating in the rain or the euphoric vision of a heroin addict’s near overdose, he keeps pressing play until it has no impact left. On the other hand, every conversation is shot like 90s TV, from two stiff angles with no energy whatsoever.

One could say that this is to make room for the actors, and the performances in “Killing Them Softly” deserve some credit. Much of the script apparently comes from the original novel by George Higgins, and it’s all scummy criminal underworld schtick. Nobody’s gonna win an Oscar, but they make lines like “you like to fuck old goats in prison” funny. Brad Pitt has fun with Cogan, giving some otherworldly swagger to a mullet/aviators/leather jacket combo that would be unforgivable on someone else. Unknowns Scoot McNairy and Ben Mendelsohn play the dumb bottom feeders that start the whole mess; they convey bad breath and squirmy nihilism well. James Gandolfini shows up as a washed-up hitman accomplice, and the rush of nostalgia might be worth the ticket price alone for some people. Ditto for Ray Liotta.

But the condescending tone of the asinine direction undercuts whatever fun there is to be had. If you loved “Jesse James,” nobody can stop you, but you will regret giving this movie your money. If you’re wondering if I’m just being a snarky contrarian, know that despite its glowing Rotten Tomatoes score, “Killing Them Softly” got an “F” from leading audience polling firm Cinemascore. Good to know it’s not dying with a whimper at the box office: it deserves nothing less than a loud, ruthless butchery.