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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, his face resembling an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen before suddenly he throws himself toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that actual serial killers are often very boring, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He was not a newcomer upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. His Dr. Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, and on his own icily exacting Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a painful subject for the actor, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to his first wife, who resented his absences and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a bread-maker and man's man, a plain speaker who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by the way they had to go begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Notably, he graduated without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then financial aid was available for drama school – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he liked more over theater. And he quit booze in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes you must to get there on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Absolutely. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like someone who gave up drink but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply