Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Insights: A Legend Known for His Fiery Nature
Widely regarded as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – while he stands utterly motionless.
Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates a corridor of cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself against the glass, producing that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since revealed that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.
He was not unrecognized upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar emerged. The character of Hannibal was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding acting coach Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a sore point for the actor, who further explains how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and his alcohol use.
Anthony Hopkins as a toddler on the beach in 1941.
The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who furiously resented the necessity of going begging to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”
The humility worked, for a while. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. But one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and began crying.
As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his second Oscar.
In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?
He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Quite so. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”
He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply