So what the hell is THIS supposed to be about?

“Fly Me to the Moon” is a pointless, humorless goof on the old “They faked the moon landings” conspiracy theory treasured by the Flat Earthers among us.

Ill-timed for an America fighting and losing its endless battle with reality and “facts,” “Moon” is glib, dull and ahistorical.

Not a romance, kind of comic and too stupid to be satire, it wastes leads Scarlett Johansson and Channing Tatum on a screenplay by Rose Gilroy, whose sole qualification for getting the assignment seems to have been that she’s the daughter of screenwriter Dan Gilroy and actress Rene Russo.

Nepo babies can be a menace to society. Or cinema.

Johansson plays a cracker jack Madison Ave. Mad-woman summoned by shady a Nixon administration operator (Woody Harrelson, not quite funny) to burnish NASA’s image, popularity with the public and Congressional budget through a little good, old-fashioned salesmanship.

What she winds up doing — per the movie’s fantasy take on the Apollo program — is teaming up with Tang and Omega watches as sponsors, “casting” actors to play NASA officials who’ll be more telegenic and skilled at interviews, and conspiring to “fake” a moon landing in a warehouse just in case America and accident-prone NASA seem to be on the verge of failing.

Tatum plays the launch director presiding over the flights leading up to and including Apollo 11, furious at this fakery and hapless in the face of resisting it. Because Kelly Jones is played by Scarlett Johansson, I guess.

It’s “The Right Stuff” without the swagger, wit or myth-making, “Apollo 13 without the gravitas, “I Dream of Jeannie” without the punchlines or bare bellies.

Kelly Jones is trying to sell the “magic” of the first-ever image of “Earthrise,” the Earth photographed by an astronaut circling the moon in Apollo 8 and the romance of the odyssey in the divided country and planet of 1968-69.

“Nobody disagrees about the moon,” is the ethos there. And all the NASA nerds with pocket protectors and slide rules led by Cole Davis (Tatum) and Henry Smalls (Ray Romano) will just have to embrace the message.

The faked moon landing and walk? They won’t know about that. Kelly hires “the Stanley Kubrick of commercials” (Jim Rash at his swishiest) to do the casting and filming and Tab drinking.

Time stands still as this inane and charmless codswollop unfolds for two hours and 12 minutes. As it is being shuttled over to Apple TV, and quickly, they figure nobody’ll mind what an endless drag it is.

Director Greg Berlanti directed “Love, Simon,” which was a way of living down producing “The Green Lantern,” and his production team here manages a tepid recreation of rowdy Space Race Era Cocoa Beach, Florida that, like almost everything else in this, is less interesting than the real history they’re bastardizing.

Space Coast filming locations have been used by “Transformers” movies, but damned if I can figure out why NASA let somebody on property to make a movie mocking Apollo and giving oxygen to “faked” moon landings, lumping all the many “comical” accidents of the first decade of space flight in with the tragic Apollo 1 launchpad fire.

What tin-eared hack thought that would play? Oh. Right.

Rating: PG-13 (Some Strong Language|Smoking

Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Channing Tatum, Ray Romano, Anna Garcia and Woody Harrelson

Credits: Directed by Greg Berlanti, scripted by Rose Gilroy. A Columbia/Apple Films release.

Running time: 2:12