I’ve read hundreds of celebrity biographies. Many’s the time I’ve been disappointed because the author skipped over or treated lightly the one movie or play the subject wrote or starred in that was my favorite, and I craved to know more. Biographer Mark Griffin, with All That Heaven Allows: A Biography of Rock Hudson, cannot be accused of leaving anything out. Meticulously, he makes sure we know of each and every performance Hudson ever gave, complete with some anecdotes and critical appraisals. And yet I wasn’t satisfied with all this. Using hundreds of articles and interviews, Griffin pieced together a look at this Hollywood icon who became the face of AIDS. He tries to show the double life Hudson lived, his motivations, his triumphs, his heartaches. We meet each one of Hudson’s lovers and are told what we need to know to decide whether we like them or not. We’re introduced to Hudson’s friends, many of them superstars—among them Claire Trevor, Doris Day, Carol Burnett, and of course, Elizabeth Taylor who loved him dearly—and we are supposed to feel their anguish and joy at having known this man. In short, we are supposed to finish this over 400 page book and come away with a complete understanding of a conflicted soul and actually feel for him. I did not. Despite all this, Griffin never let me get under the skin of Rock Hudson, the movie star, the gay man, the friend, the son. I feel I understand Hudson’s motivations, but I don’t know the man. And good biography is supposed to bring the reader to an emotional connection. For me, there was none.