The other day, Anthony Hopkins stood in front of a green screen at a film studio in Culver City, grimacing and trimming his limbs as requested by fedora-wearing director Ramy Romany. Hopkins wore textured black loafers with white fluff.
“Come on monster!” Romany called. Hopkins opened his eyes. “Come on, strength and happiness!” Hopkins flexed his biceps. “Come on, savior!” Hopkins extended his arms and spread his fingers. Bottega Veneta’s big bad wolf.
Hopkins’ wife, Stella Arroyave, said, “Oh my god, that’s so horrible. She was wearing brown clogs and her hair was in a ponytail. ‘Evil, evil savior! ‘ Staff mingled between squat black sofas and tables of plucked octopus salad.
Hopkins has agreed to star in a series of NFTs, or digital artworks, “built on Jungian archetypes,” according to one of his recent tweets, but his most famous Hollywood character is It is also derived from
“You obviously know the iconic Hannibal Lecter. use That exact mask. Instead, Ferrarini and Hopkins came up with an archetype related to Hollywood films. Hopkins is a clown, a narcissist who embodies through facial expressions and body movements.
“Now do a 360 degree turn,” Romany commanded. Hopkins waved, “Staying Alive.” The footage is combined with a rendering of Hopkins’ triangular self-portrait. Grumpy faces, and digital artwork by others.
“We are bringing the darkness of humanity. What do you call the collection?” Dave Broome, another co-founder of the Orange Comet, called out to the crew. He had black hair cut short and wore dog tags studded with black diamonds.
“Anthony Hopkins, the eternal collection,” said Ferrarini.
1,000 units of Eternal will be available to online buyers in October. Starting price: about $1,000. “I was a baseball card collector when I was a kid,” Bloom said. He put the card in his shoebox. he went to college The shoebox went to the garage. “It ended up in the trash,” he said. “Gone forever. Now in the world of NFTs, I don’t have to blame my parents for throwing my shit out. If you own Anthony Hopkins’ NFT, he is immortal on the blockchain. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s like Westworld, isn’t it?” Hopkins sat down in the Aeron chair across from Bloom. He had a mug of hot water.
“The tape disappears,” Bloom said. “It goes digital, but it disappears. It’s a very unique way to bring a legend to life.”
Hopkins invested more in creating art 20 years ago by doing graffiti all his life. “He had been making movies for years, so he had a script and he was drawing on a blank page opposite the text,” he said. “Stella found them before we got married. She said, ‘You’re an artist. I want you to paint for our wedding.'” 75 were produced, including renderings of the Welsh countryside. “Then she said, ‘Now you’re going to start painting. ‘” Hopkins protested, “I’m not an artist.” She said, “Of course you.” Now his canvas sells for as much as $80,000.
A little later, Hopkins finds himself in the house once occupied by another hobbyist painter, Henry Miller, who never quit his day job. (The house is now a library, which Hopkins called “a little California treasure.”) “Miller said, ‘Paint and die happy.’ The more he thinks, the less likely he is to achieve it,” Hopkins said. “The point is to leave the critics behind and just paint. I’m a prolific painter because I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s the greatest freedom a has.”
He continued: “We will all die and it doesn’t matter.”
Hopkins says he doesn’t own any NFTs (he’s since bought a few). It’s all Aaron Tucker,” he said, referring to the CEO of Margam Fine Art, the Los Angeles gallery that represents him. “They started this project and put it together. I just walked in as ‘please move here’. ‘ He wiggled his finger as if to indicate that he was hiring an actor. “I mean, I don’t quite get the gist of it,” he added, shrugging his shoulders. “These are extraordinary times.” ♦