Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Analysis: An Icon with a Temper

Widely regarded as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells arriving at Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, his face resembling an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, chillingly static in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move until the moment he lunges toward the window, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that actual serial killers are often very boring, far from Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar emerged. The character of Hannibal was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a difficult topic for the actor, who also describes how his King Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who disliked his absences and drinking.
Hopkins as a child
Anthony Hopkins as a toddler on the beach in 1941.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a baker and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who deeply disliked how they were forced begging to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, launched him. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time financial aid was available to go to Rada – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, which he liked more compared to stage acting. And he quit booze during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the memoir he appears more reserved, more studied. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He recalls having lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to be on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Indeed. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply
Christopher Hart
Christopher Hart

Emily Carter is a digital experience analyst specializing in portal usability and user interface design.