Anthony Hopkins has one piece of advice for any aspiring actor: Speak clearly.
“If you whisper, you sound sexy,” he said during a recent video call. “But I can’t hear you. What’s the story? Tell it. Stop mumbling.”
Although Hopkins, 86, has won two Oscars (“The Silence of the Lambs,” “The Father”), two Emmys and a Laurence Olivier Award, he still insists that acting is mostly about enunciation. “It’s just about showing up,” he has said. This summer, you can clearly hear him in “Those About to Die,” a 10-episode series set amid the blood and sand of a Roman amphitheater. It premieres on Peacock July 18. Hopkins plays Vespasian, a general turned emperor who ordered the construction of what would become the Roman Colosseum.
“Those Who Are About to Die” allowed Hopkins to return to Cinecittà, the famed Italian studio where he shot “The Two Popes.” And it continues his interest, demonstrated in projects such as “Freud’s Last Session,” “The Father,” “Westworld” and even as far back as “Nixon” and “The Remains of the Day,” in playing men in the waning stages of their power.
Although Hopkins appears in only a few scenes of “Those Who Are About to Die” (anyone familiar with the ancient Roman timeline can guess why), he is fully in control of his own abilities. His Vespasian is crippled in body, not in purpose. Faced with his legacy, Vespasian berates his sons (played by Jojo Macari and Tom Hughes), rejecting their advice and praise.
“I had to be tough on them and not do anything stupid to them,” Hopkins said.
Roland Emmerich, the show’s director, wanted Hopkins to be just as stern. “He plays a bit of a gruff guy,” Emmerich said in a recent interview. He also suspected Hopkins could play Vespasian’s cunning in his struggles with the aristocracy and the people. And he could make that realpolitik palatable.
“There’s something likable about him,” Emmerich said. “He played Hannibal Lecter and he was always so likable.”
During the video call, Hopkins was sometimes gruff and, yes, often amiable. (He’s a man with a knack for sparks; he’s amassed millions of followers on TikTok.) Today, he looks back on his career, he said, “with a sense of, not self-congratulation, but a sense of amusement.”
In a half-hour conversation, he discussed history, his humble origins, and his ambivalence toward green screen, without whispering. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.
Did you know a lot about Vespasian?
At school, history was my strong point. But I was not a very good student, I was easily distracted. Over the years, I began to read books on European history. I knew almost nothing about Vespasian. I knew that he was one of the four emperors. I knew that he founded the Flavian dynasty, that he brought fiscal reform to the Roman Empire, that he consolidated the empire, that he led construction projects and that he had the idea to distract and entertain the people, because they were suffering. You go crazy if you don’t have distraction.
So if it wasn’t the character that drew you to the show, what was it?
My agent told me he had a script for me: “Those Who Are About to Die.” I said, “Is that Roman? Gladiator?” He said yes. I read it and said, “Yes, I’d like to do that. I love Cinecittà. What I really admire is the craftsmanship of the Italian artisans in their work. The detail is extraordinary. Hand-sculpting is an art in itself. All an actor has to do is show up and say, “Okay, where do you want me to stand?” And Roland Emmerich was a strong director. That makes it easier. You just have to soak up the atmosphere. It’s not a question of method, of being Stanislavskian or anything like that. You just have to be there.
“Those Who Are About to Die” combines this know-how with extraordinary digital effects. Do you like working with computer-generated images?
I’m amazed by it. I watch the scenes in the amphitheater and I’m amazed by the genius of the computer graphics. I don’t know how they do it, I don’t even have a brain that can figure out how to use a phone. The chariot races and the special effects, it’s incredible. When I’m sitting there and there’s a green screen and I have to pretend to watch a race, it’s confusing to me. I feel like it’s all a sleight of hand. Well, acting is a sleight of hand. It’s not becoming someone else, I’m not changing myself. I come in and I introduce Tony Hopkins as Vespasian. I’m not trying to morph into someone else.
They did “Ben-Hur” at Cinecittà, it was a real race. There were injuries, one death. But William Wyler said, “I want everything to be as real as possible.” That was the exciting part, because you were really watching actors and people dying. Now, with CGI, or whatever they’re called, yes, it works. If it conveys the effect, so much the better. But I prefer the practical side.
Vespasian was of course a real man. Do you feel a certain responsibility when you play a real person, however ancient?
Well, I played Freud in the movie recently. And Nixon, I played him too. No, I don’t feel any responsibility.
Nixon comes from a farming family. Early in his career, Vespasian was known as a mule trader. You’ve talked about your own background, as the son of a baker. Do you feel a certain affinity with these men?
Yes, I think so. I come from South Wales. My father made sacrifices to give me an education, but I didn’t succeed because I wasn’t smart enough. I guess I had learning difficulties. I remember saying to him, “One day I’ll show you.” My father said, “I hope you do.” In the space of ten years, my life changed. How did that happen? I have no idea. I can’t take credit for it. There was probably some motivation in my brain that pushed me forward. I don’t know. I don’t understand.
You have played men — Nixon, Freud, Vespasian, Antony in “The Father” — in the twilight of their lives. Does that interest you?
That’s right. I’m perplexed at my age because I’m expected to work. I’m still offered work, lots of work in fact. I keep myself fit, healthy and strong. I do everything I can. I’m amazed every time I wake up. I can’t believe I’m this old. It gives me a huge amount of energy to go on, to do more. I think next year, well, maybe I’ll be there, maybe I won’t. It’s given me a sense of doom in a good way. It’s cleared my mind of all the hustle and bustle, of all the stuff I have to prove. I have nothing to prove.
There’s a paradox here: the moment you stop trying to prove yourself, things start happening. I guess that’s called surrender. Once you stop trying to figure out how to build your life, it’s over for you. I look back at my life and think, “What the hell is that?” To this day, I look back and wonder, “What happened?”