We charter members of the “I’d watch Matthias Schoenaerts in ANYthing” Club (Hellooo ladies.) will have see our loyalty tested, just a tad, with “Close Enemies.”

This French thriller (“Freres Ennemis”) may have a great, grey look, gritty milieu and be in a genre you love as much as I do. And you may find Schoenaerts a fascinating performer, great screen presence and all that (again, GUILTY). But man, this cops vs. drug dealers tale, with its constant almost meaningless motion, its tedious unnecessary detail, its betrayals and intrigues puts the “con” in convoluted.

It’s 90 minutes of thriller spread out in a 110 minute package.

Two buddies in “the life,” Imrane (Adel Bencherif) and Manuel (Schoenaerts) are drug smugglers whose “partners” in the allegedly post-gang world of Paris and its suburbs, are the Reyes Gang.

The “like-brothers” pals have children, and a job — getting dope from Conakry (Guinea, West Africa) to Tangiers to France. Imrane is looking to tidy up the operation, make a big score.

Unknown to “Manu,” though, Imrane is an informant. Driss (Reda Kateb, who was in “Zero Dark Thirty” and “A Prophet”) grew up in their neighborhood, and he’s a cop who has “turned” Imrane.

Manu isn’t told this until AFTER they’re hit, abruptly, just after making that big score. The killers were not people they knew, stole some of their drugs and shot everybody else in the car. Only nimble Manuel gets away by the skin of his teeth.

Director and co-writer David Oelhoffen (“Far From Men”) chases Schoenaerts through basements and down streets with a hand–held camera, letting him stop just long enough to wash the blood off his face in a mud puddle.

Who did this? Everybody thinks Manu did — especially the “family” of which Imrane was an official member, Moroccan Arabs led by wizened Uncle Raji (Ahmed Benaissa).

Homicide does, too. But Driss works in narcotics, and he’s inclined to use the turn of events — and the loss of his informant — to turn Manu and finish the job Imrane started.

“You always said we’d die young,” Manu hisses at him (in French, with English subtitles). “You were right. Now f— off!”

The movie is Manu haplessly fleeing murder-attempts, ducking from safe-house to the apartment where his estranged girlfriend (Gwendolyn Gourvenec) is raising their son, stumbling into others under suspicion and wondering who will get to him first.

We also track the less interesting police point of view — all the surveillance, Driss trying to keep rival divisions in the department off Manu’s case.

That’s all there is to this, just “I’ve got to clear my name and find the REAL killers,” and staying alive long enough to manage it.

But the picture wanders all over the place — literally — piling up locations and stalling out as it does. Manu is a poor sleuth and a piss-poor interrogator.

We can’t see the logic in him fingering who he does as the one tipping off the killers, and his two-fisted Q & As with suspects are always “Why’d you do this?” rather than “Did you do this, and who helped you?”

Schoenaerts is as riveting as ever, and he has to be. The movie sinks every moment he’s not in it.

Oelhoffen fritters away any momentum the picture almost develops by having characters stop for an espresso, swap cars, stumble into each other and generally get nowhere for the better part of an hour.

The grand finale is pretty grand and worth the wait, but the big payoff leaves a mystery which, if you’ve been paying attention (not as easy as you might hope), you (and I) will have a solid theory about.

Still, it’s good to see Schoenaerts in this sort of sordid story (hunt down “Mustang” to see him as a more convincing and American criminal), even if there are sequences where he’d be more entertaining reading the Paris phone book.

MPAA Rating: unrated, graphic violence, drug content, some nudity, profanity

Cast: Matthias Schoenaerts, Reda Kateb, Adel Bencheriff, Gwendolyn Gourvenec

Credits: Directed by David Oelhoffen, script by Jeanne Aptekman and David Oelhoffen. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:51