This book is not so much a biography (let alone an authorized biography) as it is a trite apologetic for the author's own obsession with Nicole Kidman. Thompson offers an armchair deconstruction of film and film-making in an effort to lend his book some semblance of critical purpose. His conclusion however, (all movie actors are hollow shells of human beings with whom we interact in a mutual desire to fill some assumed void; movies are only viewed as an extension of star-worship) generalizes his own neurosis and obsessions to his readers. These kinds of sweeping generalizations permeate the text (all Australian's are driven by rage??) and would not pass muster in a college freshman writing course.
Thompson's chummy style, implicating the reader in his own onanistic obsession, is grotesque. Personally, I do not surf the web looking for nude and semi-nude pictures of Ms. Kidman, nor do I share Thompson's morbid fantasies of her waking up "screaming" at the realization that she is aging. This falls firmly under the category of "too much information" and should give the reader a clue as to the proprietary and even sadistic bent of Thompson's attachment to and fascination with the actress.
Ultimately, Thompson's argument that Ms. Kidman shamelessly courts the limelight begging to be worshiped in an effort to "be" what we desire speaks more truth about Thompson's own need to justify his voyeuristic impulses than it does about Ms. Kidman's attitude towards privacy and public notice. It brings to mind the kind of defense offered at rape trials that the girl was "asking for it" because she had on too much makeup. And the rape analogy can be taken farther. The availability of coverage of her personal life is primarily the product of those industries secondary to the film industry - the tabloids, entertainment broadcasts and yes, critics, who obtain their own celebrity and make their living by marketing the image of others. In so doing, they take something as essential to a human being as their identity out of their hands, craft or even reinvent it and sell it like a comodity for their own gain.
Thompson exemplifies the worst of this parasitic behavior, reducing Nicole Kidman to the shell of a public persona crafted largely by others, and presuming to therefore "know" her, all the while blaming her for the shallowness of that image. Worse yet, in a volume that bears Ms. Kidman's name and likeness on the cover, Thompson uses this "biography" to showcase his own obsession and his own fantasy-driven "insights" into popular culture and film. A book like this, nothing more than fantasy-rendered-as-biography, can only be regarded as an act of violence against its very subject.