We Did OK, Kid: A Memoir by Anthony Hopkins – Insights: A Legend with a Temper

It stands as the most iconic introduction in film history – and he remains utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, must walk a corridor of cells arriving at Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. There he stands, his face resembling a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen until the moment he propels himself at the barrier, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, far from the actor's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs back in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend was forged. The character of Hannibal was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and also from his icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a sore point for Hopkins, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his time away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and refused to showing his emotions, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked how they were forced humbly to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. But one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found an excellent television part playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He remembers being taken out to lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply