We Did OK, Kid: A Memoir by Anthony Hopkins – Review: A Legend with a Temper

Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in cinematic history – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, chillingly static wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen until the moment he throws himself toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized when he landed that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. The character of Hannibal was based, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his rigorously precise acting coach Christopher Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a sore point for the actor, who recounts how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his failed first union back in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked him being 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 an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day during an English class he was required to perform John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was on stage with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then financial aid was available to go to Rada – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He recalls going out for lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Really?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it's your duty to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Absolutely. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply
Michael Robinson
Michael Robinson

A passionate historian and travel writer specializing in Italian medieval architecture and cultural heritage.