Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Insights: An Icon Known for His Fiery Nature
It stands as the greatest introduction in film history – and he remains completely still.
Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down the line of detention units arriving at Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges against the glass, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless real-crime films have since revealed that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's commanding screen presence.
He was not a newcomer upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar was cemented. The character of Hannibal was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who resented him being away and his alcohol use.
A young Hopkins at three years old on Aberavon beach.
The title originates from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a baker and man's man, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites in their community and refused to displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked the way they had to go begging to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”
The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. But one day during an English class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.
Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, which he liked more over theater. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and so survived into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Academy Award.
In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He recalls going out for lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for him to absorb something from the legendary star of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?
He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who maintains you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Indeed. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's lines on Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”
He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply
