Another look behind scenes in the entertainment world, this, time of the Hollywood variety, is provided by one of its most well known figures, the director who discovered Deanna Durbin and whose other efforts in the field of musical movies included successes with Melchior, Stokowski, Iturbi and Judy Garland. Starting life with as many drawbacks as there were to be advantages later on, Pasternak was a boy from a tiny Hungarian mountain town where his father was a sexton in a synagogue. When young he immigrated to Philadelphia with more dreams than money. If some of the dreams went to his head, luck followed and in due time Joe found himself third assistant director with a studio in New York. From there it was Europe again with German films and Francisca Gaal and then the jump to Hollywood and the apex of his career as a director at Universal. As he tells of these times and the people who made them, a recognizable warmth is exuded that seems to toast even the misfortunes of his personal life, which he also covers, with a peculiarly golden veneer. At home as at the studio, we get the idea that if things are bad, that's tough and they couldn't really be any other way. A personal display here geared for that great audience who wants both to laugh and to cry but which, as Pasternak fails to mention, is unaware of the motives behind its feelings. Insipid.