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This tale of a beleaguered honeymoon exposes its characters? foibles with gentleness and compassion.

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Caryl Churchill?s ?Top Girls? opened in a well-acted revival directed with intelligence and sensitivity by James Macdonald.

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?Glory Days? announced its immediate closing just a day after it opened on Broadway to a raft of bad reviews.

DOES Mario Lopez uffer from biceps envy? This Disease of the Vain usually strikes hunky guys who come into close contact with even hunkier guys. They see a set of biceps larger then theirs, and they go bananas. Lopez, who just took over the role of Zach, the exacting director of “A Chorus Line,” is mighty proud of his biceps. So proud, in fact, that he refused to wear Zach’s costume, a tan sweater with long sleeves. It’s an iconic outfit, based on that worn in real life by “A Chorus Line” creator Michael Bennett, and it’s been worn by countless Zachs in productions of “A Chorus Line” all over the world for the past 30 years. But “Flex” Lopez wanted to wear a brown shirt with short sleeves so that he could show off his biceps. (The audience, I gather, isn’t complaining.) The only trouble is, Flex is sharing the stage with a pair of biceps larger than his. They belong to Nick Adams, who plays Larry, the assistant choreographer. Larry’s iconic costume is a navy blue tank top with the number 17 on it. For “A Chorus Line” nerds, that number is significant - there are 17 performers auditioning for the eight spots in the chorus. Flex, sources say, was concerned that Adams’ biceps would upstage his, so he requested that Adams wear a hoodie over his tank top, which Adams does whenever he’s next to Flex. For the opening dance number, Adams does wear just the tank top - but he’s been banished to the back of the line, so you really can’t see him or his biceps. Flex, meanwhile, is out there front and center, dancing and flexing up a storm. This may seem like small potatoes, and I wouldn’t argue that it’s not. But consider this: The people who put this revival together believe “A Chorus Line” is a masterpiece that needs very little tinkering. The staging, the scenery and, yes, the costumes, are near replicas of the original 1975 production. But the fact is, after a second year on Broadway, shows often depend on TV stars like Flex to fill the house. And so if he wants to wear a short-sleeve shirt, he can wear a short-sleeve shirt. Officials with “A Chorus Line” insist that director Bob Avian made the decision to throw a hoodie over Adams. “When they stood side by side, you couldn’t tell them apart,” one person says. “They looked too similar” - like two Chelsea boys on their way to the gym. As for the battle of the biceps, I’ll leave it to you to decide who’s got the better set. Check out the photos running with this column, and e-mail me your preference. I’ll run the results next week. See you at Equinox!

THE best thing about “Glory Days” is that it lasts 90 minutes. But those 90 (intermissionless) minutes seem longer than all of “Tristan and Isolde” without Wagner. This self-indulgent hymn to the problems of early post-adolescence (male gender variety) opened last night, just in time to be eligible for this year’s Tony Awards. It probably could have marinated another decade or so. In Broadway’s own glory days, there was a curious entity known as a “vanity production,” put on either by an ambitious playwright or the sugar daddy (or real daddy) of an ambitious actor or actress. The show would run a week or so with little collateral damage apart from the financial loss of a few misguided ticket buyers. Nowadays, the cost of putting on a Broadway show has made the vanity production virtually extinct. But along comes “Glory Days,” presumably not even a vanity production, coming as it does from a well-regarded theater in Arlington, Va., and written by two 23-year-olds (one just turned 24). The book is by James Gardiner, and the music and lyrics are by Nick Blaemire, whose Playbill bio reads, “Can’t believe this is happening. Not one bit.” Well, neither can we. The music is difficult to describe and utterly unmemorable (it certainly has nothing to do with Bruce Springsteen’s hit of the same name), and the lyrics are jejune. The story is of four friends who, a year after their high school graduation, meet again in the bleachers of their old football field. The dramatic tension comes first from whether these former buddies will rig the sprinkler system to humiliate the hated football jocks playing a charity game the next day. More drama emerges when one (or is it two?) of the eroding quartet comes out of the closet. This seems to be a big deal, even a big surprise. The performances by Steven Booth, Andrew C. Call, Adam Halpin and Jesse JP Johnson are high-spirited and, for the first five minutes, engaging. But it wasn’t long before I found myself wishing that they would turn on the sprinklers and let us go home to read a good book. GLORY DAYSCircle in the Square, 1633 Broadway; (212) 239-6200.

?Glory Days,? a callow portrait of four friends on the cusp of manhood, manages to seem fresh and seriously stale at the same time.

Pummeled by the critics, the London production of ?Gone With the Wind? will have its running time trimmed by 15 minutes to three and a quarter hours.

Harry Connick Jr., will return to Broadway in March as the star of a new musical comedy.

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David Grimm?s annoying new play is a self-indulgent work about how hard it is to be a writer.

The Stephen King-John Mellencamp musical planned for next season in Atlanta in preparation for a Broadway run has run into an obstacle.