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Many consider it the greatest introduction in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, must walk a corridor of cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move before suddenly he propels himself against the glass, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly an unknown at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film during the late 80s: he was already established, instead, a superstar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his icily exacting Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a sore point for the actor, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and drinking.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and man's man, a plain speaker who detested the religious hypocrites in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then there were grants to go to Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which led indirectly to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he preferred compared to stage acting. And he quit booze during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the memoir he appears more reserved, more calculated. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who thinks it's your duty to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply