What a train wreck. My heart bled for those poor actors. I did something that I can only recall doing on one other occasion; I left the theater at the intermission and kept on walking.

Last night, CB and I saw a production of Ibsen’s The Master Builder at the Irish Rep.

It had a great pedigree and all the signs pointed to a satisfying evening of theater. The Irish Rep is sure-fire. It’s an elegant, intimate off-Broadway venue. Not like one of those crappy, uncomfortable black boxes. The director, Cirán O’Reilly, has directed a TON of really great plays there. It certainly looked more interesting than going home to watch the dreary old debates.

The lead was played by James Naughton, who’s a pretty big deal in the theater community. He’s had some prominent roles on Broadway, including the original Billy Flynn in the revival of Chicago, and some amusing TV paycheck-jobs like The Planet of the Apes (the series) and The Birds II. Ibsen is, well, Ibsen. He wrote Hedda Gabler and An Enemy of the People, for cryin’ out loud! How could it go wrong?

Well, it did. The story seems comically dated. What passed for high drama in 1892 now seems like overwrought melodrama and, in CB’s words, “A cheap soap opera.” The entire cast was stiff. They displayed the same depth and emotion that you would expect to see at the first table read of the script. When intermission came, CB said, “I don’t think I want to stay for the second act,” which was fine by me. It’s still in previews so perhaps they can salvage it by opening night. It’ll be interesting to read the reviews. Ironically, the only other time I can recall walking out on a play was also with CB (and Mrs. Wife), many years ago. It was an off-Broadway production of a Sam Sheppard play starring Vincent d’Onofrio. That was pretty awful, as well.

I always stay for the entire show out of respect for the actors. Can you imagine walking back on stage after the interval, looking out at the house and seeing empty seats that just :10 minutes earlier had patrons in them? Ugh. I’d never get over it.

CB is just back from his annual business trip to New Zealand. He writes for a fashion trade publication. If there’s a fashion week somewhere on the planet, he’s usually there to cover it. He has somehow managed to achieve B-list celebrity status in the Auckland fashion community. He’s, like, been on TV and stuff. During this most recent trip, while at an evening fête, a college student nervously approached him and said, “Excuse me. Are you CB?” He admitted he was. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you but, could I please have my picture taken with you? My friends will just die that I got to meet you.”

Oh, brother. Are you kidding me? I’m so jealous. Naturally, he wants to move there. Who wouldn’t?

According to the lunar calendar, autumn doesn’t begin until Monday but as far as I’m concerned it started last night. I saw my first Broadway play of the New York theater season. A Man for All Seasons with Frank Langella playing Sir Thomas More. I saw Langella play Richard Nixon last season in Frost/Nixon and he is a great actor. (Watch for the Ron Howard-directed Frost/Nixon out in November.)

A Man for All Seasons is a dark, thick piece of theater that requires your full attention. The elderly patron seated to my left fell asleep, and I completely understand that. It helps to have a fetish for British historical dramas, which I do in spades, but I’m not entirely convinced that everyone would enjoy it as much as I did. I thought it was fantastic.

It’s hard to believe that executions, betrayal, false imprisonment and a potential war could result simply from the want of a divorce, but it all really happened. Get this: In 1527 Henry VIII wanted to divorce Catherine of Aragon to marry his mistress Anne Boleyn. The only thing standing in his way was the Catholic Church. The Church wouldn’t sanction the divorce, so he got rid of it! A righteous dude! In 1532, he severed ties with Rome and passed the Act of Supremacy, which installed himself as the Supreme Head of the Church of England. What nerve! He finally married Anne Boleyn. Catherine of Aragon’s nephew, Charles V, King of Spain, didn’t like seeing his aunt removed as Queen and tried to instigate a war.

More, the influential Lord Chancellor of England, refused to sign the Act or endorse the divorce on moral grounds. Well, you can guess where that got him. A year in a dungeon and a beheading. All that occurred simply because the King wanted a divorce! Isn’t that nuts?

What do you think has caused more trouble and misery throughout history, religious doctrine or what a man keeps in his pants? I’d say it’s a toss-up.

Two plays in 18 hours isn’t everybody’s idea of a good time, but it works for me. Zorro was enjoyable as long as they were singing and dancing. Have you ever watched someone play flamenco guitar up close? If I tried to play that fast I’d break my fingers. Some of the dialog was a bit stilted and unintentionally hilarious. The Female of the Species featured British national treasure Eileen Atkins and was one of the funniest things I’ve seen in quite a while. After the matinee, a long walk through a sunny London. How can I turn days like this into a money-making venture?

I’m watching Bob play Guitar Hero III. I know this is going to make me sound a bit behind the times but I’ve never seen anyone play Guitar Hero before. I’m not sure how I feel about it. It looks tough although not as tough as learning how to play a guitar. I guess that’s part of the appeal. Quick results.