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Widely regarded as the most iconic entrance in movie lore – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's transparent prison. The man is present, his face resembling an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not unrecognized upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar emerged. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and also from his strictly demanding drama teacher Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a baker and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented how they were forced humbly to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then there were grants to attend Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but fortunately found a great TV role as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, that he favored over theater. And he quit booze in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it through midlife to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He recalls being taken out to lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Truly?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who maintains it is one's responsibility to get there on time, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Indeed. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply