Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Analysis: An Icon Known for His Fiery Nature

Widely regarded as the most iconic entrance in movie lore – and he remains completely still.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, proceeds down a row of prison cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself toward the window, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since revealed that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly an unknown when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, as well as his strictly demanding acting coach Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a sore point for the actor, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked him being away and his drinking habits.
Hopkins as a child
Anthony Hopkins as a toddler on the beach in 1941.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a direct communicator who detested the religious hypocrites of the chapel and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked the necessity of going humbly to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated without much hope, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but fortunately found a great TV role as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he preferred to the stage. He gave up alcohol in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He recalls going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who thinks it's your duty to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply
Pamela Neal
Pamela Neal

A seasoned luxury lifestyle writer with over a decade of experience covering high-end fashion and exclusive travel destinations.