Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Review: An Icon Known for His Fiery Nature

It stands as the greatest introduction in film history – yet the actor stays completely still.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that genuine criminals are often very boring, far from the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was forged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his rigorously precise drama teacher Christopher Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a painful subject for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.
Young Anthony Hopkins
A young Hopkins at three years old on Aberavon beach.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and a traditional male, a plain speaker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in expressing his feelings, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the necessity of going humbly to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. But one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then went into another room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more to the stage. He gave up alcohol in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into middle age to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the memoir his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who thinks you must to be on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Quite so. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And learn some manners. You ever do that again in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply
Jeffrey Cohen
Jeffrey Cohen

Helena is a tech enthusiast and software engineer with over a decade of experience in machine learning and web development.