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

A young FBI agent, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. There he stands, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself at the barrier, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling the actor's captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar emerged. The character of Hannibal was based, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a painful subject for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked him being away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented how they were forced begging to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a posh school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. But one day during an English class he was required to perform John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days there were grants for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then went into another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – 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 characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to get there on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Quite so. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply