🔗 Share this article

Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's transparent prison. There he stands, his face resembling a living skull filled with sinister intent, chillingly static in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless before suddenly he lunges toward the window, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but a legend was cemented. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his strictly demanding Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. There was also a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a painful subject for the actor, who further explains how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who resented him being away and his alcohol use.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought 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 baker and man's man, a plain speaker who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who was angered by the way they had to go begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and could get young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. Then, during in a literature class he had to recite the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He convincingly states that poems, alone, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time there were grants for drama school – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively 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 – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found a great TV role as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, which he liked more to the stage. And he quit booze in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the book he appears more reserved, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He remembers being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and do the job. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply