Anthony Hopkins' Memoir: We Did OK, Kid – Review: A Legend Known for His Fiery Nature

Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in film history – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, navigates a row of prison cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. The man is present, with features like a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move until the moment he throws himself against the glass, producing that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but a legend emerged. The character of Hannibal was inspired, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own icily exacting Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his King Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to Petronella Barker, 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 playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented how they were forced begging to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a posh school: β€œBecause they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. β€œEveryone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. But one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days there were grants for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, that he favored to the stage. And he quit booze back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his next Oscar win.

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 going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it is one's responsibility to be on time, remember every crew member's name and get on with it. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: β€œSay sorry to her! And learn some manners. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: β€œHe cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply
Ruben Wood
Ruben Wood

A seasoned betting analyst with over a decade of experience in UK sports markets, specializing in data-driven strategies.

September 2026 Blog Roll