Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Review: A Legend Known for His Fiery Nature

Widely regarded as the greatest appearance in movie lore – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless right up until he lunges toward the window, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since shown that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, 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 1991 thriller during the late 80s: he was already established, instead, a superstar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding acting coach his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a difficult topic for Anthony, who recounts how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his time away and his drinking habits.
Young Anthony Hopkins
Anthony Hopkins as a toddler on the beach in 1941.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and could get the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. But one day during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, propelled him forward. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then went into another room and wept openly.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which led indirectly to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he liked more over theater. And he quit booze back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the memoir he appears more reserved, more deliberate. A few tales fall a bit flat. He remembers going out for lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Really?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who believes you must to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude 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!” Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. An actor of his caliber surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply
Nancy Hart
Nancy Hart

Alexandra is a freelance writer and life coach passionate about helping others achieve their goals through mindful living and continuous learning.