Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Review: An Icon with a Temper
Widely regarded as the most memorable introduction in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.
A young FBI agent, a rookie, must walk the line of detention units until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. There he stands, his face resembling a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself against the glass, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless real-crime films have since shown that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling the actor's captivating film persona.
Hopkins was hardly a newcomer upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller during the late 80s: he was already established, but rather a megastar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his time away and drinking.
A young Hopkins at three years old on Aberavon beach.
The book's name comes from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and refused to displaying emotion, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented how they were forced begging 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: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”
The pleading was effective, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. But one day during an English class he had to recite John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, went into acting, and shocking his family, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then scholarships existed to attend Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and wept openly.
Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but stumbled upon a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored to the stage. And he quit booze back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into middle age to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.
In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales fall a bit flat. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Truly?
He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who thinks it is one's responsibility to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Quite so. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. You ever do that again in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows Cornwall's lines on Kent from 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 lengthy appendix composed simply