UCLA Live has dropped its theatre programming. Well, not willingly; UCLA administration has cut theatre from the series’ budget.

This is tragic, because for nearly a decade, UCLA Live has consistently programmed the best performance series in town — and many of the highlights have been theatre. It’s the only place that the Berliner Ensemble played in the U.S. (in a production of “The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui” that still haunts me); it’s where I discovered The Socìetas Raffaello Sanzio and saw the astonishing “Genesi — From the Museum of Sleep,” which melded placid dream sequences with the twitching disturbances of a David Lynch or Nine Inch Nails; it’s where the Dubliners came over to play Beckett, where “Shockheaded Peter” had its American playdates, where Robert Wilson and Merce Cunningham and David Thomas did things that I’m not sure were theatre or dance or music or performance or what, but which were always mesmerizing. It’s where The National Theatre of Scotland performed their U.S. premiere of “The Black Watch.”

But no more. Dance, music and the lectures series remain intact. “What they’ve done is cut everything related to theater,” Sefton explained.

I don’t know where else in Los Angeles — in Los Angeles! — that one will be able to see this sort of work. No one else brings in shows like this, shows that require enormous theatrical training, often very specialized sets and pieces, and large budgets. At the point at which all the theatre becomes just two-character plays — or, God help us, nothing but solo shows — then there really will be no reason to leave your couch.

Here’s Charles Isherwood on the ups and downs of two-character plays.

New York has recently seen a spate of major two-hander productions, and given the economics of producing theatre, no doubt will see many more. I’d like to see “Red” — with Alfred Molina in it, which will require a trip to New York, unless the production gets remounted here. I saw “Collected Stories” in 1999 at the Geffen Playhouse; Linda Lavin was the star (as she is in New York), and she gave an inspired performance. And it’s a terrific play. If you’re in New York, I recommend it.

Last night I went with three other playwrights to see what I thought was a pretty dull play, David Hare’s “The Blue Room.” Whenever you find that you’re more involved with the lights and the sound and the music and watching the set changes (all of them admittedly pretty interesting in this production), then you know that the play isn’t working. I kept debating whether it was the script, the actors, or the direction, and landed finally on the script. Sex has never been so uninteresting, and every line sounded written, not spoken.

Afterward, the  four of us went out for a drink. I sat there, determined not to be the first to dig into the play. Maybe because I was so drained by seeing it. The experience was so enervating it had me wondering again whether the balance in quality between theatre and television had permanently shifted. When television is producing shows like “Breaking Bad” and “The Wire,” and you can carefully select what you want to see and when you want to see it with your DVR, and nine out of ten plays are a disappointment and every experience is a crapshoot and it all costs more, the argument for getting off your couch becomes harder. And no, you cannot imagine what it feels like to say this here.

One thing the theatre will always have over television is this:  drinks afterward. We had some fun at the expense of the show — I offered my usual analysis of why a play in question was 90 minutes with no intermission:  “So no one can leave early” — and somehow we got on the subject of drink and drugs. And then we got the quote of the night, something far better than anything in the play, something that I’ll be putting in a play of mine unless the playwright who said it beats me to it:

“I smoked weed. I didn’t like it. It made me feel like part of the wallpaper. Drinking is better. Alcohol is like me, plus.”

It’s so perfect a bit of dialogue that it sounds written. If only anything approaching that level had been in the actual play that night.

This is deliciously bad. As such, this scene from some long-lost movie may provide the finest entertainment of your day. I know it amused and entertained me.

By the way, despite claims to the contrary, this does not represent the worst acting ever. That distinction belongs to some odd-looking and unremarked character actor who auditioned for me 15 years ago and who at the end of his audition proudly punctuated the end of his standing monologue by planting one foot atop the seat of a nearby chair much in the way of an imagined Admiral Wellington or Napoleon Bonaparte. After he left, my producing partner said she didn’t believe any part of this man’s monologue. I replied, “I didn’t even believe the way he put his foot on the chair.”

This video therefore represents the second-worst acting ever. Although I’m open to other nominees, if you’d care to comment. And I suppose I’d nominate a third-worst: Nicolas Cage’s performance, such as it was, in last year’s “Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call: New Orleans,” in which Cage’s lieutenant is best described as a cackling hunchback. Now that was pure enjoyment!

What’s the one jury you definitely don’t want to serve on?

It’s not a homicide prosecution, or a lengthy federal trial.

No, it’s the drama jury for the Pulitzer Prize. At least as a member of the jury on a homicide or any other trial, you’d get listened to in the end. As a member of the drama jury for the Pulitzer, you’re likely to do your service and then get utterly ignored. That’s the ignominious pattern of the drama jury. Here’s Charles McNulty on how that feels.

Next to my laptop here at home, my daughter just the agenda for my Saturday night meeting here;  “Agenda for Saturday Fringe Meeting.” She said, “You had a Fringe meeting?” and shuddered.

No, not that Fringe.  (Although I did tell her yes, we’re conducting radical experiments in the basement. When she noted that we don’t have a basement, I answered, “You haven’t seen it because we’re keeping it in the other dimension.”) This Fringe:  The Hollywood Fringe festival.

The festival is June something to something (click the link above to learn more). Consider this your advance notice to hang onto the evening of Saturday, June 17th. That’s when a bunch of us from Moving Arts are going to do some instant and impossible new plays all around the grounds of a noted landmark in Hollywood. More details to follow.

I’m awaiting my flight in the Tucson airport, where this message was broadcast:  “Attention, passengers waiting to board Flight 2715. Your aircraft is here, but they have identified a potential tire problem. They are investigating, but we thank you for your patience.”

Whenever something like this happens, I always see people get steamed and fret and stomp around. My thought is always:  “Yes, please — fix it. I don’t want to take off in a broken aircraft.”

Update:  Just got the next announcement. The mechanics have determined a “need to do a dual tire change.” Our potential delay time? “We’re looking at up to two hours. We’re also looking to see how this will impact connections.”

Guess what? Yes — I have a connecting flight. So I suppose I won’t be joining a bunch of playwright-friends to see “Wit” tonight.

My friend Terence Anthony’s terrific environmental piece “Blood and Thunder,” about two lowlife criminals caught in rising waters during Hurricane Katrina, closes this weekend after a smash six-month run. If you’re in LA and you haven’t seen it, I strongly recommend you do. Here’s where to get tickets.

In the meantime, here’s a nice interview with the cast, courtesy of my friend and fellow playwright Ross Tedford Kendall.

I’ve plugged my friend Terence Anthony’s terrific play “Blood and Thunder” here before.

Now there’s a trailer for it.

It runs through the end of March. If you’re in town, I urge you to see it. My wife is a tough theatre critic indeed, but she loved this show. This gives you an idea of why. (And here’s where you can get tickets.

My friend Terence Anthony just got interviewed about his terrific play “Blood & Thunder.” Here’s what he has to say.

The play has been running at Moving Arts for six months, but it must must must (must!) close last weekend of this month. It is definitely a don’t-miss, so if you’re in LA, well, don’t. Here’s where to get more info — and tickets.