Men know they are sexual exiles. They wander the earth seeking satisfaction craving and despising never content. There is nothing in that anguished motion for women to envy.
Lucky that man whose children make his happiness in life and not his grief the anguished disappointment of his hopes.
Bad acting comes in many bags various odors. It can be performed by cardboard refugees from an Ed Wood movie reciting their dialogue off an eye chart or by hopped-up pros looking to punch a hole through the fourth wall from pure ballistic force of personality like Joe Pesci in a bad mood. I can respect bad acting that owns its own style.