Forget “I do.” For his next wedding, Nicolas Cage should pause for dramatic effect, make a crazy face and then shout, “I DON’T!”

Not tying the knot would save him from having to untie it later.

Of course, this will never happen. In the same way Einstein was drawn to relativity, Mr. Cage needs to be hitched. It’s his E = mc2, where enthusiasm is equal to matrimony times carelessness, squared.

So last weekend, while the rest of us were contemplating life post-Mueller, Cage was doing what he loves best, colluding with a possible soul mate. This time it was girlfriend Erika Koike, a makeup artist who was perhaps unaware of Cage’s romantic blemishes. This includes 0-for-3 marriages to, in order, Patricia Arquette, Lisa Marie Presley and Alice Kim. Throw in the tabloid rumours of alleged dalliances with everyone from Brooke Shields to Angelina Jolie and suddenly Cupid is clacking out a screenplay titled The Man Who Loves to Be in Love.

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But in one video just before last weekend’s shotgun wedding in Vegas, obtained by the Daily Mail, Cage looks as overjoyed as a gourmand at Burger King. He is garbed in the black pants, huge belt buckle and red-T-shirt-under-printed-jacket of a man two to three decades younger than 55. If you didn’t know he was an Oscar-winning actor, you might guess he hawked knock-off sunglasses on the Strip while regaling tourists with tales from his days as a roadie for Deep Purple.

In the video, shot on a cellphone by someone who can’t stop laughing, Cage trudges through a marriage licence bureau with the sluggish motor skills of a kangaroo hammered on Jack Daniels. But even though he’s heard saying, “I’m not doing it,” he can’t help but do it. He did it.

Cage got married. Again. For the fourth time.

And this one lasted — wait for it — four days.

On Wednesday, apparently after the casino cocktails wore off, Cage filed for an annulment. Four. Days. Honestly, it took me more time last week to return a box of recalled Janes Pub Style Chicken Nuggets.

And the risk I faced was poisoning my kids with salmonella.

So let’s now think about Nicolas Cage’s fixation with marriage.

Yes, he wed Arquette in 1995. But eight years earlier, when they first met at an L.A. deli, he wanted to get married after TWO HOURS. He was convinced his second marriage, to the daughter of Elvis Presley, was one for the ages.

That union lasted THREE MONTHS.

When he met his third wife, Kim, who was a waitress in L.A. at the time, it took FIVE MINUTES for Cage to invite her to Arizona. The two then boarded a helicopter for the Grand Canyon, listening to Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.”

I needed months before I was comfortable taking my wife to Ikea.

Cage really needs to be married. It’s pathological. You know how women sometimes joke about how men have a fear of commitment? This guy isn’t one of those men. His instincts are to put commitment in a bear hug and dry hump fate.

So here’s what I’m thinking: Nicolas Cage should be the next Bachelor.

Yeah, yeah, the Colton-virgin who scaled a fence this past season was all fine and good. But imagine the celebrity jolt ABC’s long-running reality show could get if Cage was romancing hotties with his Casanova pretenses and laser focus on connubial bliss.

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No Bachelor in history has wanted to find love more than Nicolas Cage.

No Bachelor in history is more entertaining.

Instead of a rose ceremony, there’d be a black orchid ceremony, the flower Arquette demanded Cage find before she agreed to marriage. (Spoiler alert: he spray-painted a different flower.) There’d be no fantasy suites in The Bachelor: Nicolas Cage. Instead, the star would squire contestants to a seedy Motel 6, where he’d seduce them with Coors Light and an ontological meditation on how old-school troubadours perfected over-the-top dramatization.

And just imagine the memes. We’d have Bug-Eyed Cage in the hot tub. And Baffled Cage on the group dates. As an actor, Cage’s face is already famous for going rogue.

He can deliver an expository line about, say, mailing a letter, and you’d swear electrodes were strapped to his genitals: “It NEEDS to go out NOW!”

But on The Bachelor, his expressions would be liberated as never before.

They’d hit Wagnerian highs.

Social media would light up, week after week, after Cage looks deep into the eyes of multiple women and confesses he’s never felt this way before. Ratings would soar as he goes on hometown dates and gets into heated debates with fathers and mothers over his intention to marry their young daughters before sundown.

Cage is not like most celebrities these days, which is to say he doesn’t overshare. He’s apolitical. He doesn’t babble on about religion. So all we really know about him is what he shows but never says: he loves being married.

Straight, gay, young, old, everyone would watch The Bachelor: Nicolas Cage.

The authenticity would be off the charts. The heartbreak would be visceral.

We’d all learn a thing or two about falling in love and getting married.

And for Cage, who knows, maybe the fifth time would be the charm.