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

Many consider it the most iconic appearance in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, must walk a corridor of cells arriving at the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, appearing as an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself against the glass, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly an unknown when he landed that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar was cemented. The character of Hannibal was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his icily exacting acting coach Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a painful subject for Anthony, who further explains how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by him being away and drinking.

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, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and man's man, a straightforward talker who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and refused to expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. Richard Hopkins who was angered by the way they had to go humbly to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. However, one day during an English class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time there were grants to go to Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – 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 the film The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, that he favored to the stage. He stopped drinking in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live through midlife to execute great performances, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions going out for lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who thinks you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like 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 truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply