True Love At Last.
I'm listening to the audio commentary from the director, Kathryn Bigelow, and the writer.
I think I'm in love. With Kathryn, not Mark Boal!
I already knew she was attractive enough to be a model but the world is full of beautiful women and Bigelow is in her mid-fifties. Her age may sound like a great obstacle in the way our romance, but I can live with the discrepancy in our ages. At ninety-four I've learned to cope with worse things.
No. It's her voice on the commentary. It's refined, nasal, mellifluous, buttery, and sexy.
She sounds like the night-time announcer on some late-night PBS program of classical music. "And next, we will hear Mozart's Symphony Number One. It was written when he was three years old."
She was born in San Carlos, California, a pleasant town on the San Francisco peninsula. I live there for some time and can without qualification recommend the German restaurant at the Belmont Shopping Center, the restaurant with the mechanical zither player.
Her education shows in both her lexicon and her elocution. She was graduated with a bachelor's from San Francisco Art Institute and went on to an MFA from Columbia. Her diction is bewitching, and she uses a word like "ebullient" comfortably.
I could listen to her voice forever. I doubt she'll answer the many proposals of marriage I intend sending her.