We Did OK, Kid: A Memoir by Sir Anthony Hopkins is an introspective and emotional journey through the life of one of the greatest actors of our time. Set for release on November 4, 2025, this hardcover memoir is both a reflection on a life fully lived and a deep look into the personal struggles, artistic triumphs, and hard-won wisdom that shaped Hopkins into the artist and man he is today.
The title, drawn from a phrase Hopkins often uses when looking back at his younger self, sets the tone for the entire book. “We did OK, kid,” he tells that boy from Port Talbot, Wales, as if comforting the uncertain child who never quite fit in. The phrase becomes a refrain throughout the memoir—a mix of self-forgiveness, humility, and gratitude for the road traveled.
From the very beginning, Hopkins’s writing carries the rhythm and authenticity of someone speaking directly to the reader. His tone is conversational, but filled with the poetic weight of a man who has learned to observe life with detachment, empathy, and quiet humor. The memoir traces his journey from a shy, unfocused boy in postwar Wales to a titan of the stage and screen.
The early chapters describe his childhood vividly: the gray industrial landscape, the noise of the steel mills, and the stern discipline of his father. Hopkins recounts feeling like an outsider at school, often dismissed as unmotivated or lazy. Yet even then, a spark was forming. He found solace in drawing, music, and later, acting—forms of expression that allowed him to escape the constraints of his environment.
When he writes about his early acting years, the narrative comes alive with both energy and unease. Hopkins recounts his time training for the stage, the uncertainty of auditions, and his eventual rise under the mentorship of legends like Laurence Olivier. He captures the mixture of terror and exhilaration that comes with live performance, describing moments of triumph and failure alike. What stands out most is his honesty about insecurity—how fame never erased the inner doubt, and how he often viewed acting as both a form of freedom and a kind of madness.
As the memoir moves into his film career, Hopkins reflects on the roles that defined him. He recalls the artistic breakthroughs that changed his life, including the discipline and intensity required for his most iconic characters. Yet rather than boast about success, he dwells on the fleeting nature of fame and the loneliness that often accompanies it. Hopkins reveals that, behind the acclaim, there was always a restless mind—one prone to self-criticism and yearning for stillness.
A major portion of the book deals with his struggle with alcoholism and the long path to recovery. Hopkins’s tone becomes raw and confessional here. He admits to the damage he caused—to relationships, to his own health, and to his peace of mind. His descriptions of addiction are not sensationalized; they are deeply human, full of shame and clarity. His recovery is portrayed not as a single turning point, but as a continuous process of renewal. Sobriety becomes a recurring theme of discipline and grace that mirrors his approach to acting.
In later chapters, Hopkins turns philosophical. He reflects on aging, mortality, and the search for meaning in a life filled with contradictions. He speaks with a kind of quiet acceptance, acknowledging both the beauty and absurdity of existence. He writes about solitude, faith, and the thin line between madness and creativity. These passages are some of the most profound in the book, offering glimpses into the private reflections of a man who has seen the best and worst of himself.
Stylistically, the book moves fluidly between narrative storytelling and poetic meditation. Hopkins’s prose is elegant but unpretentious, alternating between wry humor and profound insight. He does not write like a performer trying to impress, but like a man attempting to tell the truth—no matter how fragmented or contradictory that truth may be. The simplicity of his voice gives his reflections emotional weight.
Throughout the memoir, Hopkins includes intimate moments that reveal the man behind the legend. He recalls small kindnesses from strangers, late-night moments of doubt before major performances, and his ongoing fascination with music and painting. His passion for art remains central to his identity; he sees creativity not as a means to fame but as a lifeline that kept him grounded through decades of turbulence.
One of the most striking elements of We Did OK, Kid is its humility. Hopkins never presents himself as a moral authority or a flawless survivor. Instead, he writes with the perspective of someone who has finally made peace with imperfection. The title’s phrase, repeated near the end of the book, feels like both a message to his younger self and a benediction to the reader: an acknowledgment that we are all flawed, yet still capable of doing “OK” in the end.
There are some limitations to the memoir. Certain episodes—particularly in his film career—are covered briefly, leaving readers wanting more behind-the-scenes detail. Some relationships, including family dynamics and friendships, are treated with brevity, as if Hopkins is reluctant to expose too much. But these omissions also feel intentional, reflecting a man who values privacy and restraint.
Despite its occasional sparseness, the emotional core of the memoir remains powerful. Hopkins succeeds not by recounting every milestone but by capturing the spirit of a lifetime’s reflection. The result is a portrait of an artist who has spent decades learning how to live, forgive, and create without apology.
We Did OK, Kid is not a celebrity tell-all or a chronological resume of success stories. It is a meditation on art, pain, and redemption—a memoir of quiet revelations rather than sensational confessions. Readers who appreciate introspective storytelling will find much to treasure here.
By its end, the book feels like a conversation between past and present selves, between the frightened boy from Wales and the wise elder he became. Hopkins invites readers into that dialogue, encouraging them to look at their own lives and whisper the same words: we did OK, kid.
Overall, We Did OK, Kid is a moving, understated, and deeply human memoir. It’s a reminder that greatness often comes not from perfection, but from persistence, forgiveness, and the courage to keep going. On a five-star scale, it deserves a strong four—rich in authenticity, grounded in experience, and unforgettable in its quiet wisdom.
