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

It stands as the greatest appearance in film history – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, proceeds down a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, his face resembling a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he throws himself toward the window, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized when he landed that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but a legend was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his strictly demanding acting coach his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a painful subject for the actor, who recounts how his King Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and his drinking habits.
Young Anthony Hopkins
Hopkins in 1941, aged three, 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, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a plain speaker who loathed the religious hypocrites of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the necessity of going humbly to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. Then, during in a literature class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, went into acting, and shocking his family, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then there were grants to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but stumbled upon a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he preferred over theater. And he quit booze during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?

He consistently acts as the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes it's your duty to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows Cornwall's lines on Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply
Misty Perez
Misty Perez

A seasoned digital marketer with over a decade of experience in brand strategy and content creation, passionate about helping businesses thrive online.