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

Widely regarded as the greatest entrance in cinematic history – and he remains utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, proceeds down a corridor of cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. There he stands, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move until the moment he propels himself toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since shown that actual serial killers are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer when he landed that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding acting coach Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a painful subject for Anthony, who further explains how his King 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 his first wife, who resented him being away and drinking.
Hopkins as a child
Hopkins in 1941, aged three, on Aberavon beach.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a baker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who despised the religious hypocrites of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by how they were forced cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He says quite plausibly that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, although in those days scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity 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, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, that he favored compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions going out for lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for him to absorb 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 due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes it's your duty to get there on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Absolutely. But he also recounts confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply
Juan Johnson
Juan Johnson

A seasoned journalist and political analyst with over 15 years of experience covering national and international affairs.