Surely You Remember Anthony Hopkins’s Thotty Headshot

From the archive.

More from Hung Up this week: A Love Island USA chat in the Substack app … A father present in the movie theater but not the home … What’s the best story you tell about yourself?

You’re never going to believe this, but I was at a wedding last week. (I know, I know: Likely place for me to be.) I’m still finishing up something about Materialists¹, so I pulled up something fun and weird from the archives: Do you remember Anthony Hopkins’s thotty headshot? That make it do what it do squint? That I knew had to do it to em fingers resting on his temple?

It was a highlight of my 2021. I went through a bit of trouble to track down the photographer to ask him about taking such an image. Obviously, I guess he thought I was crazy and never got back to me. (Offer still open!) I would say this was my descent into madness, but I stand by it. The headshot is good. He should be proud of it. Imagine that I had no idea when I wrote about Anthony Hopkins’ thotty headshot that he’d be the man responsible for saying “Alright let’s have peace and love and QUIET” after The Slap.

Read the full thing below:

I, as devoted Hung Up readers will recall, am obsessed with men demonstrably interested in their own vanity. A lie people like to tell is that only women care about looking good, or only women fuss over their presentation. That is simply not true. Men, even in their current flop era, are just as vain. Men act like they do not care about looking — or being — beautiful; too many male performers equate making an effort to escape their beauty with Good Acting. (Angelica Jade Bastién’s 2016 essay on method acting was incredibly precise about this.) My favorite interview I’ve ever done was with Ve Neill, Bradley Cooper’s makeup artist for A Star Is Born, a movie where he is famously 40% hotter than he has ever been in real life.

That little bit of pomp and circumstance, Bradley Cooper’s awareness of his own propensity for beauty, is so fascinating to me. To a different extent, it’s: Jeremy Strong wearing brown, Timothée Chalamet’s bejeweled harness, Kanye saying, “Do you see this coat,” Teddy Pendergrass’s whole essence², a group of boys walking around Dimes Square with their Online Ceramics hoodies just so. I think this interest comes from reading and rereading the collection of GQs that still sit on my dad’s coffee table, but who knows.

Much of the last week was devoted to my favorite new example of this: Anthony Hopkins’s headshot. Hunter, you’re thinking. A headshot is a headshot is a headshot. I’m so sorry to tell you that you are wrong. Anthony Hopkins’s headshot is so specifically something — maybe handsome, but more importantly serving and knows he’s serving. For several days I just could not stop thinking about it. I have nothing else to write about this week, so here’s an oral history of those days.

Day 1
A lot of things happened at the Oscars, and people smarter and more thoughtful than I am have gone long on them. Alas: The part of the Oscars that I cannot stop thinking about, the part of the Oscars that simply no one is talking about is Anthony Hopkins’s headshot.

The Best Actor Award is saved for the end, and Joaquin Phoenix steps on stage to mumble some intro to the final award of the night. (No, I cannot remember what he said exactly, but I did tense up at the tone of his voice, which can only be described as: Social studies teacher announcing to the school dance that they found a bottle of whiskey in the bathroom and because of one person’s individual action, the entire dance is being shut down, so call your parents and tell them to come pick you up.)

Phoenix opens the envelope and announces that Anthony Hopkins has won his second Oscar. Hopkins, of course, is in bed. (Relatable.) He was also, of course, not allowed to Zoom into the ceremony. Instead, his headshot flashes across the screen and the entire show ends, and suddenly I’m 10 minutes into a local news broadcast.

This is Anthony Hopkins’s headshot:

A lot of men think they are giving what the Anthony Hopkins headshot gives. It’s giving me: Martha Stewart pool selfie. It’s giving me: that feeling you get when you’re out shopping and try on something in a dressing room and can’t help but start dancing in the mirror because it just looks and feels so good. Maybe only I do that. But that is a feeling I spend my entire life chasing. I know it when I see it.

Day 2
I — fortunately for some people, I guess, and unfortunately for others — have a curious mind. Anthony Hopkins’s headshot — how did it get here? Where did it come from? Has he always had it? Who took it? Did the person who captured this image know its power? The mind reels.

I texted some friends:

I spend an entire hour going through Anthony Hopkins’s entire Instagram and Facebook, trying to look for any kind of photo credit. A lot of people, I decide, do not want me to talk about the Anthony Hopkins headshot. But thot pics, like democracy, die in darkness, so yes, I will indeed continue talking about it.

Day 3
At 2:08 p.m. I tweet this:

But at 5:04 p.m. I post this on Instagram:

https://x.com/jackmackalope/status/1387161173070647306

Do I feel held by the Anthony Hopkins thot headshot? Does the Anthony Hopkins thot headshot feel like home to me? The answer to both is yes.

I return to combing through Anthony Hopkins’s every social media platform. He uses this thot headshot for everything, I realize: It’s his profile picture across every social media platform, he used it for the Oscars, he used it for his album cover. I find this very personally relatable, as there are exactly two perfect photos of me that fully capture my essence, and I use them for everything.

Day 4
Now it’s becoming a game. I just need to know. My apologies, but spiritually — legally — I have to get to the bottom of this. It is my Number 23 (no I didn’t see that movie). Anthony Hopkins has a website. The website prominently displays the headshot. I write a brief inquiry on this important matter:

I have not received a reply. Once again, I am left empty-handed after attempting to solve a mystery. I am no closer to finding the photographer responsible for this image, unfortunately. But I have concluded that Anthony Hopkins did send that thot headshot on purpose, that he was giving the girls something to talk about, that he indeed knows his angles. And that, devoted reader, is enough for me.

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1. There’s also a chat about this in the Substack app, btw!

2.