A magazine (Look,. etc.) writer's guided tour of our town, Hollywood, makes good copy- something more than gossip, less than revelation, of the private lives of public idols and the not so shatterproof images they project. Even out of the glare of the Kileg-lights, the film folk are anything but plain people (Davidson has some pretty loose catch-words from the couch to fall back on), and sickest of the sick is Sinatra, The Leader, with his benevolence, vendettas, blowups, walkouts, fabulous talent and temper-the ""man with the golden charm""; then there's Kim Novak, who drifts into the ocean with her clothes on, retires to her Purple Grotto of a study to brood; Elizabeth Taylor, now maturing, (kind words here for her non-conformity and courage) and the ""instinctive talent"" which has taken her from Lassie to Butterfield The King- Cable-a ""decent modest man"", in his own words ""I'm just a lucky slo from Ohio""; Bergman, and her unhappy search for a strong man to dominate rather than just direct her; Fred Astaire; Dick Clark; etc., etc. There are small stories and tall, incidents, scandals, a little about the totems- money and status, and about others, playwrights, publicists, etc. who all contribute to the lure and legend that is Hollywood.... Davidson is not the subject writer, but he has a lot of diverting, fascinating material at hand- with a guaranteed glitter for the mass market.