Told with great verve and colour, this is the remarkable life story of an extraordinary Australian. As a boy, Ronald Faulkner was a troubled and rebellious surfer and tearaway, giving his mother a rough time after his father died when he was just seven years old. Although he dreamed of a career in the Royal Australian Navy, fate had other ideas and, through a series of chance encounters, he found himself embarking on a career in the theatre - not unlike his father, the silent film actor John Faulkner, and his mother, Sheila Whytock, a ballerina who danced with Diaghilev's Ballet Russes and the great Anna Pavlova. Under the guidance of his friend and mentor Peter Finch, the young Faulkner - who by this time had garnered the nickname 'Trader' - set sail for England, arriving in spring 1950. His career in the theatre soon took off, bringing him into contact with some of the finest actors, directors, and playwrights of his time. He also discovered flamenco, a dance he was to master, earning the friendship and respect of Antonio Gades and Antonio 'El Bailarin' along the way. This is Trader Faulkner's story - a fascinating tale of comedy, elation, sadness, and tremendous challenge. It is also an inspiring documentary tribute to an age that is fast slipping away. 'He has never been a big star, but every triumph, setback or small humiliation has been equal grist to his storytelling mill. He's proof that in showbiz the most interesting people are often not the celebrities but those a notch below, laughing on the edges and doing their bit. Trader Faulkner is a breeze, and never for a minute a bore. That he has found in old age the energy to write it all down does us a great favour.' The Times 'Ronald 'Trader' Faulkner is that relative rarity- an unassuming actor . . . No, he was not Prince Hamlet, nor was he meant to be; but there was a lot of fun to be had among the attendant lords, and Faulkner would seek it out. Most of us would have been driven to distraction by such a life; he has rejoiced in it. His pleasure and exultation shine through on every page.' The Spectator