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

A young FBI agent, new to the job, must walk a row of prison cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, appearing as a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he propels himself toward the window, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since revealed that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, far from Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly an unknown at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar emerged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his rigorously precise acting coach his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a painful subject for Hopkins, who further explains how his King Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who resented him being away and drinking.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a bread-maker and man's man, a direct communicator who loathed the religious hypocrites of the chapel and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who was angered by how they were forced cap-in-hand to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. But one day during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He says quite plausibly that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, went into acting, and shocking his family, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then there were grants for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but lucked into a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the book he appears more reserved, more studied. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls going out for lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Truly?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it's your duty to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Absolutely. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply