🔗 Share this article

Widely regarded as the most memorable entrance in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, navigates a row of prison cells arriving at the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own rigorously precise Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a difficult topic for Anthony, who recounts how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a bread-maker and man's man, a plain speaker who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by how they were forced humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the memoir he appears more reserved, more studied. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He recalls being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Really?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply