The woman in the show left her husband after an argument over bowling and checked into a hotel for a few days. He kept begging her to come home. He tried apologies, gifts, and promises. She was not feeling affectionate and did not budge. Her needs took center stage and there was no room to consider his. 

As a distraction she created a small town theater production and right before opening night her leading man announced that he was bailing. 

"Bailing? What do you mean?" she scrambled over to him.

"I am just not into it. The last scene doesn't do it for me. I'm done." He shook his head, apathetic about the effect his decision had on her play. She launched into a cobbled argument about how she needed him, how she would rewrite the end of the story, anything to get him to recommit.

"There are techniques for getting into the part, ways to overcome your block," she assured him. Reluctantly he agreed.

The irony stuck out like spinach between her teeth. Although the screenwriters were content to resolve the play and leave the marriage on the rocks, I was disappointed in her. She did not see the parallel between her own eagerness to wrangle the actor into staying, and her husband's efforts to coax her back to her own covenant.

If I ran the zoo, or rather Hollywood, I would have leaped on the chance to give a pro marriage message. There are techniques for falling back in love and strategies for overcoming blocks. Sadly, though, commitment has gone out of fashion. Self fulfillment gets more air time than dedication, and when you plunk yourself in front of that message a few nights a week with a bowl of popcorn for a decade or three it becomes legit.