We Did OK, Kid: A Memoir by Anthony Hopkins – Insights: An Icon Known for His Fiery Nature

Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, proceeds down a corridor of cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, his face resembling a living skull filled with sinister intent, chillingly static in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move right up until he throws himself toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous real-crime films have since shown that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. The character of Hannibal was based, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding drama teacher his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a sore point for Anthony, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union during the 60s with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his time away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and refused to displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who furiously resented the necessity of going cap-in-hand to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. He was a poor student at his new school. Then, during in a literature class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time there were grants for drama school – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but lucked into a great TV role as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, which he preferred compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He remembers going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it is one's responsibility to be on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Absolutely. Yet he also tells standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And learn some manners. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply