Exploring Anthony Hopkins' Autobiography We Did OK, Kid – Insights: An Icon with a Temper

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

A young FBI agent, a rookie, navigates the line of detention units until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, his face resembling a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless before suddenly he lunges against the glass, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since shown that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and also from his strictly demanding drama teacher Christopher Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who also describes how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his time away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and man's man, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who furiously resented how they were forced begging to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. However, one day in an English lesson he had to recite the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated without much hope, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, that he favored over theater. He stopped drinking back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the steward 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 memoir his character seems more elusive, more studied. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it is one's responsibility to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Indeed. But he also recounts facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply