Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Insights: An Icon with a Temper
Many consider it the most iconic introduction in movie lore – while he stands utterly motionless.
Clarice Starling, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless right up until he lunges toward the window, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, far from the actor's commanding screen presence.
He was not unrecognized upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar was forged. The character of Hannibal was based, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own rigorously precise acting coach his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who resented him being away and drinking.
A young Hopkins at three years old on Aberavon beach.
The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a plain speaker who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by how they were forced cap-in-hand to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and could get young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”
The humility worked, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, although in those days 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: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.
Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but lucked into an excellent television part playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.
During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He recalls having lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for him to absorb something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?
He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it is one's responsibility to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set 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. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”
Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply