Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Analysis: A Legend with a Temper
Many consider it the most memorable entrance in movie lore – and he remains completely still.
The FBI trainee, new to the job, proceeds down the line of detention units until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, his face resembling a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since shown that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.
Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. The character of Hannibal was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who further explains how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his time away and drinking.
Hopkins in 1941, aged three, on Aberavon beach.
The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”
The pleading was effective, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he had to recite the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time financial aid was available for drama school – an opportunity for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.
Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.
In the later sections of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not exactly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?
He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Absolutely. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”
Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply