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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in movie lore – and he remains without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen right up until he throws himself against the glass, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was forged. The character of Hannibal was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own strictly demanding acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who resented him being away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. But one day in a literature class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but lucked into an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, which he preferred over theater. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live through midlife to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. A few tales fall a bit flat. He remembers having lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Really?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a detailed supplement composed simply