Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Review: An Icon Known for His Fiery Nature
Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in cinematic history – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.
The FBI trainee, just starting out, proceeds down the line of detention units arriving at the notorious doctor's transparent prison. The man is present, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen before suddenly he throws himself toward the window, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since revealed that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, far from the actor's captivating film persona.
Hopkins was hardly an unknown upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own icily exacting drama teacher his mentor Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a sore point for the actor, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and his alcohol use.
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 kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a pastry chef and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and avoided showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”
The humility worked, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. But one day in a literature class he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was on stage with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed for drama school – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.
Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but fortunately found an excellent television part playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Oscar.
During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Really?
He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Indeed. But he also recounts facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”
He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply