Hong Chau, Michael Stuhlbarg, Ving Rhames and Alfred Molina also appear in Apple TV+’s Boston-set crime caper about a botched robbery with spiraling consequences.

Is it just idiotic to keep hoping original made-for-streaming features might pass for real movies? Sure, there’s an occasional exception, but not Apple TV+’s The Instigators, even the generic title of which sounds like a dozen things you watched on planes and promptly forgot. The comedy-ish thriller about a pair of inept crime cohorts winging it after a botched heist boasts considerable resources, a proven director and a highly capable cast. But even an extended vehicular chase sequence involving half of Boston law enforcement and a trail of wreckage generates few sparks.

As fodder to shove into high rotation on subscriber algorithms, The Instigators will probably perform respectably thanks to the draw of headliners Matt Damon and Casey Affleck, the latter also serving as co-screenwriter. It’s not terrible but it’s far from great, instead landing in that dispiriting morass best identified as “passable entertainment,” designed to make critics grasp for new ways to say “Meh.”

The story opens with Damon as divorced, unemployed former Marine Rory, telling his concerned therapist, Dr. Rivera (Hong Chau), that he figured out his life wasn’t going to get better and decided if it still felt that way after a year he would cash in his ticket. That was a year ago. He just wants to see his son before taking that drastic step, but the $32,480 he owes in legal fees and child support stands in his way. Rory has tried everything. Except crime.

Somehow or other he finds himself on the crew of a supposedly easy in-and-out robbery to take place on a mayoral election night when the corrupt incumbent, Miccelli (Ron Perlman), is expected to be re-elected. Masterminded by small-time crook Mr. Besegai (Michael Stuhlbarg) with help from his associate Richie DeChico (Alfred Molina), who runs a bakery as a front, the plan is to collect the proceeds of the $500-ticket event and make a swift exit.

Naturally, there are variables, including a popular challenger, a refusal of one side to concede and a throng of security and other staff where only a handful was anticipated. One of those in attendance is a police chief in Miccelli’s pocket.

The comedy, such as it is, stems from the reluctant pairing of morose, methodical Rory with impulsive loudmouth Cobby, both of whom hail from working-class Quincy but otherwise have nothing in common. The two actors play off each other well enough, contrasting Damon’s caustic deadpan with Affleck’s devil-may-care flippancy. But the writing lacks the wit to milk the odd-couple dynamic for many real laughs.

It’s hard enough to buy that a guy like Rory, resigned to his despair, would be in therapy at all, but even harder once they rope in Dr. Rivera as a fake hostage and she keeps firing shrink-speak at her patient during a high-speed chase while her car is getting crumpled around them. Actors like Chau, Stuhlbarg and Molina deserve better than the thin characterizations this material provides.

Liman’s attempts to inject an offbeat edge include having the big chase set-piece accompanied by the swinging Petula Clark pop classic “Downtown” on the car stereo. But this is a drab-looking movie in which even the stabs at humor feel inauthentic, and rather than building tension, the climactic scenes involving an enraged Miccelli and his shifty lawyer (Toby Jones) just drag on.