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Widely regarded as the greatest entrance in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down a corridor of cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's transparent prison. There he stands, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he throws himself toward the window, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless true-crime documentaries have since revealed that actual serial killers are often very boring, far from the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller during the late 80s: he was already established, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his strictly demanding acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his alcohol use.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and refused to showing his emotions, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who deeply disliked how they were forced cap-in-hand to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, which he liked more compared to stage acting. And he quit booze back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He remembers being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who believes it is one's responsibility to be on time, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Indeed. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply