Suit by Armani, jokes by Bazooka Joe.

Sunday’s Academy Awards ceremony got as many laughs as a Hollywood movie — but only if that movie was “American Sniper.” Social media users piled on the show’s proliferation of draggy gags and corny one-liners.

About halfway through, you could feel the producers desperately rifling through furniture backstage, looking for the phone number of that pizza shop Ellen DeGeneres called last year.

Much of the ire on Twitter and Facebook was directed at host Neil Patrick Harris, who opened the show with a forgettable musical number before sitting back and delivering a night of scripted zingers that were as lame as whichever actor will win next year’s Oscar for playing a wheelchair-bound astronaut.

“This next presenter is so lovely, you could eat her up with-her-spoon,” he said of Reese Witherspoon, as he suppressed a giggle.

“He’s the real deal, pants down. I mean hands down,” he joked of Channing Tatum, who’ll reprise his role as a stripper in this summer’s “Magic Mike XXL.”

During a brief parody of “Birdman,” Harris appeared onstage in a pair of tighty whities, revealing a shockingly buff body.

Now he should use all that carefully built muscle to punch in the face the person who wrote this terrible material for him.

For some reason, the telecast’s producers decided to forgo hiring a comedy writer to run the show and instead settled on Greg Berlanti, best known for his work on “The Flash.”

“My Oscars party just shook hands and agreed to go their separate ways,” “Family Guy” writer Julius Sharpe tweeted early on.

The bit that fell flattest was also the one that chewed up the most airtime. Harris claimed he’d made Oscar predictions earlier in the week and that his picks had been stuffed into a briefcase and placed into a locked box on the stage.

He repeatedly referenced the briefcase — even commanding “The Help” Oscar winner Octavia Spencer to keep an eye on it — as the camera cut backstage to the accountant who held the key.

They weren’t. When Harris finally opened the briefcase at the end of the show’s nearly four-hour running time, the audience had stopped caring long ago. The predictions — more a magic trick than anything else — contained an interminable list of not-funny callbacks to previous events.

NPH, you might want to take that magic wand and poke the people in the first three rows to wake them.

At this point, some online were suggesting that it would be humane for Rosamund Pike to take out the host in the same way she did in “Gone Girl.”

It’s a shame because Harris is generally an assured, charismatic presence. That he stumbled so mightily just proves what an impossible, thankless task it is to host the Oscars.

One solution might be to skip the host altogether. No one is tuning in for one-liners about Jen Aniston or a forgettable musical opening number anyway.

What’s great about the Oscars (and the Golden Globes and the “Saturday Night Live” 40th anniversary special, and all these shows) is that there are all these famous people together in one room. We, the audience — to put it technically — want stuff to happen. We want water cooler moments that can take place only on this one night.

That’s why Ellen’s celeb-stuffed selfie was such a viral hit and why we’re still talking about David Niven and the streaker. Host banter is just a waste of time.

Either spread out the hosting among lots of different, interesting people, or skip it and work on trying to give us more unique moments that we’ll be tweeting about for the right reasons.