Hopkins was one of television's most brilliant pioneers, one of a clutch of writers including Dennis Potter and David Mercer, who the BBC embraced in the 1960s and 70s and helped create a golden age of television drama.
Hopkins' recurring themes were crime, cruelty and despair, but his stark honesty was always a vehicle for genuine human compassion. Talking to a Stranger, a four-part serial from 1966, which George Melly called "the first authentic masterpiece written directly for television," made the BFI's TV 100 poll in 2002, and remains a devastating and inspirational study of human relationships.
A grown-up brother and sister go home to visit their elderly parents, but a series of emotional developments lead to shocking resolutions. Hopkins' trick was to repeat the events over the four episodes, each time showing the situation from a different character's point of view. This is just one of many examples of the pioneering spirit of the age.
But Talking to a Stranger is more than just a masterpiece written directly for television; it is a masterpiece that could only have been written for television. Hopkins uses monologue, flashback, claustrophobia and intense reaction shots to build to a staggering climax as we crawl inside the minds of all four characters and never feel we have truly let them go once the experience ends.
For Judi Dench this was a massive break. She won a Bafta for her electrifying performance as the daughter of the house, brilliantly assisted by Michael Bryant and Maurice Denham.
Of course, Christopher Morahan deserves praise for making Hopkins' vision a reality, but in an age when the writer truly was king, it is Hopkins who shines through as one of the few writers bold enough to use television for something more than just visual muzak.
His name may not be quite as much of a bell-ringer as Potter's or Bleasdale's, but an hour spent in the dark alleys of John Hopkins' dramas is never forgotten.
Simon Farquhar