We Did OK, Kid: A Memoir by Anthony Hopkins – Insights: An Icon with a Temper

Many consider it the greatest introduction in cinematic history – while he stands completely still.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, navigates the line of detention units arriving at the notorious doctor's transparent prison. There he stands, his face resembling a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, chillingly static in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals are often very boring, far from the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His Dr. Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his strictly demanding acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a painful subject for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage during the 60s with Petronella Barker, who resented him being away and his drinking habits.
Hopkins as a child
Hopkins in 1941, aged three, on Aberavon beach.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked how they were forced cap-in-hand to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he raves while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, launched him. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then there were grants to go to Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored over theater. He stopped drinking back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He remembers going out for lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Really?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes it's your duty to get there on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Indeed. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply
Erin Gray
Erin Gray

Elena Hartwell is a freelance writer and editor with a passion for narrative craft and literary exploration.