ILLUSTRATION, ROB KELLY

It was almost 40 years ago that Anthony Hopkins, bored with theater life, turned his sights to the screen. The West End’s loss was our gain. Hopkins has endeared himself to American audiences with movies like The Elephant Man, but it was his Oscar-winning turn as Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs that made him a leading man, albeit an unconventional one. Suddenly, Hopkins was waist-deep in the blockbuster system—making buddy films with Chris Rock and even reportedly losing the part of Mr. Freeze in Batman & Robin to Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Before he stars in his next megahit, November’s Beowulf, the 69-year-old delivers his experimental indie film, Slipstream. This story of the implosion of a writer’s mind is surreal, nonlinear, unnerving and, at times, totally annoying. Luckily, Hopkins—who wrote, produced, directed, starred in and composed the music for the film—likes it that way. As the interview approached, we prepared for a nerve-racking conversation with a steely living legend. Instead, we got a nice Welshman who called on time and even introduced himself as “Tony.”

What’s going on here? For a sir, you’re not intimidating at all.
Do you think it’s the British accent? [Laughs] That honor was given to me some years ago. I think it was 1992. It’s terrific, but it’s no big deal. Living in America now I never use it.

I’ve read that some Brits don’t like that you get to live here and keep your title.
I don’t know. That’s their problem. I just came to America and did all the things I wasn’t supposed to do, like make movies. I couldn’t stand being in the theater; I find it so boring. So I sold my soul to Malibu.

Your movie Slipstream is pretty damned confusing. Were you on acid when you made it? You can tell me.
Oh, no. I haven’t done that for years. But I think that it was a throwback to my tequila days. [Laughs]

Are you worried that no one is going to understand it?
It’s not meant to make any sense. I wrote it as an experiment. I just put a few scenes down on the computer and thought, Well, this is interesting. I knew it was going to annoy people.

Then why did you make it?
I wanted to make a “down the rabbit hole” kind of movie. In the theater, I’d always wanted to do a classic like Shakespeare, but put a doorbell in or have a car go across the set—something so bizarre that everyone goes, “What the hell was that?!?”

As a director, is it more fun to torture your actors physically or emotionally?
I hate people who abuse actors. We had a very easy set. I just let them get on with it and pointed the camera. At one point John Turturro said, “Can I improvise?” I said, “Do what the hell you like!”

The movie pokes a lot of fun at Hollywood.
Directors and producers take themselves so seriously. I’ll want to say to them, “What’s your problem? It’s only a stupid movie!” I worked on a film months ago that was complete chaos. The director was a megalomaniac, and he had all these sycophants around him. I just stepped aside and observed the insanity; I didn’t want to go insane with them. He didn’t know what the hell to make of me because I wasn’t going to kiss his ass.

Can’t actors be the same way?
Sure. We had an actor on this film who started screaming one day, and I wouldn’t get involved. After he calmed down, he came up and asked, “Are you angry with me?” I said no. It’s like martial arts. You just yield and they fall over because fighting is so ridiculous.

The movie also has a reference to “Hopkins turning down Hannibal 4.” Were you intentionally trying to distance yourself from Hannibal Lecter?
No, no. It was a good part to play, but it was just a phase of my life. It’s over and done with. People think I only play these weird guys, but I’m not at all weird. I’m very normal. Normal for an actor, anyway.

Slipstream opens Fri 26.