Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Review: A Legend Known for His Fiery Nature
Widely regarded as the most memorable introduction in cinematic history – while he stands without moving a muscle.
The FBI trainee, new to the job, proceeds down a corridor of cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, appearing as a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he lunges against the glass, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, far from Hopkins' captivating film persona.
He was not an unknown when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend was forged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his strictly demanding drama teacher Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a sore point for Hopkins, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union back in 1966 to his first wife, who resented him being away and drinking.
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 child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the necessity of going humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and could get young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”
The pleading was effective, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, launched him. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then went into another room and burst into tears.
Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and so survived into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.
During the second part of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more studied. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls being taken out to lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Truly?
He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes it is one's responsibility to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Quite so. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he always tells the truth!”
He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply