Book Review: "All That Heaven Allows: A Biography of Rock Hudson"

Mark Griffin's new book is a sympathetic portrait of one of classic Hollywood's biggest stars

In the 1950s and 1960s, no Hollywood star was so firmly associated with the all-American ideal of masculinity than Rock Hudson. Starring in such successful melodramas as Magnificent Obsession, All That Heaven Allows, and Written on the Wind and in such romantic comedies as Pillow Talk and Lover Come Back, he seemed to have everything: box office success, male beauty, legions of adoring fans. Unfortunately, as Mark Griffin documents in his new book, All That Heaven Allows: A Biography of Rock Hudson, the flip side of this was that Hudson had to strenuously keep an essential part of himself secret from the world: his homosexuality. 

Of course, by this point in history it’s no secret that the cinematic straight guy Rock Hudson was in fact a closeted gay man and, thanks in part to Ryan Murphy’s historical fantasy series Hollywood, a whole new generation of now understands the tremendous pressure to conform that were an essential part of being in Hollywood in that era. Griffin’s book does a great deal to flesh out the contours of Rock’s life behind the screen, offering both insight into the star’s psychology as well as shedding new light on his screen performances. 

It would have been easy for Griffin to take a judgmental approach to Hudson and his life, painting his decision to remain in the closet as the act of a coward. However, the Rock Hudson that emerges from the pages of this biography is a deeply human person, a genuinely warm and kind man who did everything in his power to help those around him. In fact, as I was reading it I couldn’t help but think of another huge movie star of the era who was similarly conflicted in terms of his on-screen persona and his real life: Cary Grant. However, whereas Grant could be quite curt and demanding, for the most part Hudson was generous, sometimes to a fault. 

These days, it’s rather easy to dismiss Hudson as being a sub-par actor, someone who had the good fortune to be born with truly stunning good looks and a healthy dose of charisma. Indeed, whereas some movie stars’ good looks seem very much a product of their era, even now Hudson blazes on the screen with the kind of male beauty that is rare in the real world. All That Heaven Allows, however, shows us just how devoted Hudson was to the craft of acting. Again and again and again, we see him throwing himself into the work of being an actor, whether taking direction from his directors (most notably Douglas Sirk, who seemed to simply get Hudson in a way that few other directors truly did) or researching a role with tremendous diligence. 

Griffin allows us to see Hudson’s performances in a new light, whether in his melodramas or his comedies. Knowing just how much work he put into honing his craft, you can’t help but admire what he was able to accomplish on the screen. However, we also learn of how some of Hudson’s ambitions were thwarted, and he never really got the respect that he probably deserved as a serious dramatic actor. This, despite the fact that he actually appeared on the stage, including in a production of Camelot (something that I did not know and was genuinely surprised to learn). 

What’s more, you can’t help but admire the way that Hudson, like Bette Davis, continued to work right up until his final illness. While he dominated Hollywood throughout the 1950s and the early 1960s, he ultimately had to face the fact that his particular type of stardom was going out of fashion along with the studio system of which he was a part. Though he was on the record as disliking television, his role on the hit series McMillan and Wife ensured that he stayed in the minds of the American public, even as his film career continued to suffer from a series of flops (including several interesting science fiction ventures).

Of course, Griffin’s book also devotes significant attention to Hudson’s difficult private life, and we meet the many men that were his lovers and partners throughout the years. Given that his mammoth estate was known as “the Castle,” we also get a glimpse into the sorts of palace drama that were and are such a key part of the lives of the stars. There were times in the book where Griffin indulges in a bit of salaciousness, but that was probably inevitable, given the subject of the biography. Nevertheless, one does still get a sense of how much of a toll Hudson’s life in the closet took, both on him and on the men with whom he tried to share his life. 

As important as his lovers were, Griffin also shows us that Hudson also leaned very heavily on his friends, particularly the women. Stars like Doris Day, Carol Burnett, and Elizabeth Taylor seemed to be particularly important to him, and in fact Taylor would be with him at the end of his life, as AIDS ravaged his body and he slowly slipped away. 

Throughout the book, we never lose sight of the human behind the glittering facade, and this is especially important as the book reaches its conclusion. There is something deeply, breathtakingly tragic about Hudson’s death. As the first star to publicly admit that he had contracted HIV, he had a tremendous burden to bear, particularly since he contracted it very early in the pandemic, when it was firmly associated with gay men and with shame. One can’t help but wonder what his thoughts were as he entered his final illness.

To my mind, the mark of a good movie star biography is one that helps us understand both their performances and their private lives, all while situating them in the milieu in which they lived. All That Heaven Allows is just such a biography, showing us not only Hudson the star but Hudson the person. Aside from everything else, it’s a powerfully moving portrait of one of Hollywood’s greatest stars.