Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Insights: An Icon Known for His Fiery Nature
Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.
The FBI trainee, just starting out, must walk the line of detention units until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, appearing as a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen until the moment he throws himself toward the window, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.
He was not an unknown at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for Hopkins, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and his drinking habits.
Anthony Hopkins as a toddler on the beach in 1941.
The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a plain speaker who despised the religious hypocrites in their community and didn't believe in expressing his feelings, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the way they had to go begging to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”
The grovelling paid off, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. But one day during an English class he had to recite the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, went into acting, and shocking his family, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, although in those days there were grants for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and wept openly.
Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, which he preferred to the stage. He stopped drinking back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.
During the second part of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls being taken out to lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Is that so?
He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes it is one's responsibility to be on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Quite so. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”
Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply