Anthony Hopkins’ home is gone
Thoughts from his former assistant
Sir Anthony Hopkins owns many homes, as you would imagine. When I was his assistant, I spent a lot of time at his cliffside home in Malibu. It was awe-inspiring to be able to hear waves crashing against the shore below no matter where you were in the home, if not a bit disconcerting.
This is where he lived most of the time, and he kept his most treasured possessions there. (Of course there was the small room where he displayed the Oscar and all the other awards, but that’s not what I’m talking about. There were only a few things that Tony actually cared about, and they had nothing to do with his career.)
I also spent a lot of time at one of his homes in the Pacific Palisades.
It was unassuming from the street – you could barely see it from where it was built into the hill. But from the back windows, you could see the stretch of the coast from Santa Monica to Malibu.
There were corners of the house that were always dark, which felt cozy. Paintings adorned the walls, many of them made by Tony. There were books and DVDs stacked in the bookcases. It smelled like incense, candles, and coffee.
It was peace.
Since Tony didn’t live at this home, when I was there it was because I needed to take care of the cat who lived there full-time or housesit for a few days and nights at a time. I was always there alone.
I would wander through the rooms, gazing out the windows at the neighborhood that made its way down the hill. I watched little birds hop around the back deck. I made myself a coffee. For the first time in my life, I sat still. I embraced the quiet.
I got bored, and I tried to sit in that uneasy feeling. I thumbed through the books on the bookcases – there were too many to count. I loved sitting at the dinner table and waiting for the sun to set and for the whole house to fall dark.
I devoured the solitude. For the previous four years, I had been hustling and barely scraping by as an actor. I moved from apartment to apartment depending on what I could afford or how many cockroaches I could put up with. I always had a roof over my head, but I felt home-less.
This was the first quiet place I found in all of Los Angeles, and it felt like it was all mine.
And in the peace, I was finally able to think. I thought about where I’d come from and where I wanted to go. I reassessed my goals. I journaled. I watched films. I emailed a couple friends, and I decided not to email the rest. I realized that I didn’t need very many people in my life to feel whole.
Because that’s how I felt in that home. And it was sitting there, gazing out the window, when I finally decided to leave the film and TV business and start a family.
And that decision ultimately led me here.
There would be no Cosleepy today if it weren’t for all the hours I spent wandering that house.
Yesterday it burned to the ground in the Palisades fire, but I will never forget the mark it made on me and you.