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Widely regarded as the greatest appearance in movie lore – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down the line of detention units until she reaches Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since shown that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller in 1989: he was already established, but rather a megastar emerged. The character of Hannibal was based, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a difficult topic for the actor, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, 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 kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided showing his emotions, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by the necessity of going begging to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He convincingly states that poems, alone, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but lucked into a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He remembers being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who maintains it's your duty to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and get on with it. Absolutely. But he also recounts confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply