That is where Anthony Hopkins begins his searing memoir, We Did Ok, Kid. There is a touch of British writer Richmal Crompton’s William Brown series of books in Hopkins’ telling of his life story. In between, he met Richard Burton, when Burton came to pick up Hopkins’ neighbour, Bernice Evans, who was teaching Hopkins art, for a movie. Hopkins writes of these lows with a fierce honesty, of how he drove the car in a drunken blackout. The book does not feel self-indulgent, as Hopkins looks at his life and choices in that clear-eyed way that is irresistible.