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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – while he stands completely still.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, proceeds down a corridor of cells arriving at the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar emerged. His Dr. Lecter was inspired, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and on his own strictly demanding drama teacher his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for Anthony, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who resented his time away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the religious hypocrites of the chapel and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked how they were forced begging to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. However, one day during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, went into acting, and shocking his family, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but fortunately found an excellent television part playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live through midlife to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions having lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply