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

Widely regarded as the most memorable introduction in movie lore – and he remains completely still.

A young FBI agent, a rookie, proceeds down a corridor of cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not an unknown when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a plain speaker who detested the religious hypocrites in their community and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during in an English lesson he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days there were grants to attend Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He recalls going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for him to absorb something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven out of envy. Really?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Indeed. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be someone who gave up drink but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply