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

Many consider it the greatest introduction in movie lore – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, proceeds down the line of detention units until she reaches the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. He is positioned, his face resembling an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, chillingly static in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges at the barrier, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous real-crime films have since demonstrated that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's commanding screen presence.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his rigorously precise Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and drinking.
Hopkins in his early years
Hopkins in 1941, aged three, on Aberavon beach.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a direct communicator who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. However, one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, although in those days scholarships existed for drama school – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but lucked into a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, which he liked more to the stage. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book he appears more reserved, more deliberate. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it's your duty to be on time, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Absolutely. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

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

A passionate storyteller and writing coach with over a decade of experience in fiction and creative non-fiction.