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It stands as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's transparent prison. He is positioned, appearing as a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself against the glass, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers are often very boring, with nothing resembling Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not an unknown upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, and also from his icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a sore point for Hopkins, who recounts how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who despised the religious hypocrites of the chapel and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked how they were forced begging to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was acting with the great Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, that he favored over theater. And he quit booze back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions going out for lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks you must to get there on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply