Johnny Depp’s NYC art exhibit is one huge, derivative, delusional ego bath

“Welcome to Johnny’s world,” said a greeter with a giggle of disbelief.

His incredulity was understandable. He was manning an art gallery in Chelsea where the work of Johnny Depp is currently on display.

No, not special screenings of “Finding Neverland” and “Donnie Brasco” — actual paintings by Edward Scissorhands himself. 

I laughed too.

How could you not? The 61-year-old actor’s ego bath, er, exhibition, which opened Friday on West 27th Street, has a comically broad title: “A Bunch of Stuff.”

Points for accuracy. Beyond the painted canvases, the large space is indeed cluttered with a ton of upchucked knicknacks: empty Cafe Du Monde coffee cans, typewriters, toy monkeys, a lamp in a wooden shoe and pretentious notes written on letterhead from the world’s most luxurious hotels. 

I chuckled at an ashtray that read “Dinner without wine is like a day without sunshine,” as Depp reportedly spends $30,000 a month on vino alone. 

You get the distinct — and awkward — sense that the “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” star feels he’s channelling brilliant minds like Dylan Thomas and JD Salinger, whose books are scattered around the room. 

His copy of Walter Isaacson’s biography of Leonardo da Vinci was particularly delusional. 

But most of what’s hanging on the walls is plainly derivative — from Basquiat to a Mexico City street fair — and provokes no response stronger than a “yep.”

“Some may call it art, some may not,” reads a message from Depp on the wall. “I call it mine.”

And, you know what, that’s plenty for the Hollywood star’s rabid fans, who made up most of the crowd Friday afternoon.

A pair of Depp-devoted tourists excitedly sprinted to the Captain Jack Sparrow voodoo doll prop from the 2011 movie “Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides,” which scored a 33% on Rotten Tomatoes.

I’m pretty sure another man and woman loudly yelling “F–K!” at 3 p.m. were not connoisseurs of water color portraits.

All the Johnnyphiles surely left messages for the actor on the giant paper guest-book wall. One left by a person who needs a hobby said, “Need you to hold me.”

The first piece of Depp’s I spotted was a white rectangle with the Hunter S. Thompson quote “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” 

Many of the actor’s works are simply framed phrases, like motivational posters meant for potheads. 

Some were spoken by others, but many are philosophical mumbo-jumbo straight from the star of “The Tourist,” such as “Close your eyes and look at everything you can’t see.” 

But Thompson’s line was the ideal way to begin, as I had just spent a jaw-dropping $48 for my ticket to “A Bunch of Stuff.”

The next few paintings were self-portraits. Shocking, I know.

There’s 2010s beret-and-sunglasses Depp and a chiseled-jaw “Sleepy Hollow”-era Depp. He also depicts his kids and a late-in-life Marlon Brando.

In the next cylindrical room starts a series of hairless faces that resemble John Malkovich or Tilda Swinton, depending on your mood.

Then comes his rather on-the-nose “Death By Confetti” paintings with skeletons drowning in colorful dots. The obvious message is that the highs of celebrity can suddenly turn on somebody and ultimately do them in. A k a Depp’s last eight years. 

Still, that’s pretty rich, as star power is the sole reason that this masturbatory exhibition exists.

Our ego trip ends in a black box, in which Depp narrates an animated film of his paintings with insights about his life in a phony Bruce Springsteen campfire voice.

“My entire family thought I was insane,” he says to the surprise of no one.

Walking out, I asked another attendant if Depp’s collection is on sale.

“It is and it isn’t,” he replied.

I took that to mean that if you have to ask, you can’t afford it. 

But fear not. In the gift shop, anyone can purchase a stuffed animal lookalike of Depp’s dog Mr. Mooh, who passed away in 2009, for $40.

It’s the perfect present for the person who just wants a bunch of stuff.