Ne Reginald Truscott-Jones in the Welsh town of Neath, the author went on to become a jockey, seaman and trooper in the Household Cavalry before breaking into films as a trick sharpshooter. Later rescued from a gas station job by Paramount during the Depression, Milland was typecast as a light leading man until he won acclaim and an Oscar for his portrayal of a harrowed alcoholic in quest of a pint. Far from the typical merry stroll down memory lane, the actor's autobiography is as incisively outspoken and wryly humorous as it is intensely personal. Nostalgic evocations of childhood days at Gnoll Hall School are counterbalanced by a feeling of malaise which Milland attributes to contemporary society (""If there is cynicism in me it has been engendered by disillusion. Most of my pedestals stand empty and the world seems filled with predators."") The Hollywood scene -- ""this glittering pastiche, this Circus Maximus, this lubricious slave market"" -- is as wickedly readable as always. Not a lost weekend, nor even a couple of hours.