Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Insights: A Legend Known for His Fiery Nature

Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in film history – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he throws himself against the glass, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, far from the actor's captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly an unknown upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who recounts how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and drinking.
Hopkins as a child
Anthony Hopkins as a toddler on the beach in 1941.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a baker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. However, one day during an English class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more over theater. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He remembers being taken out to lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it's your duty to get there on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like someone who gave up drink but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply
Amanda Smith
Amanda Smith

A seasoned gaming analyst with over a decade of experience in online casino reviews and industry trends.