🔗 Share this article

Many consider it the most iconic entrance in cinematic history – while he stands completely still.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, proceeds down a corridor of cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. There he stands, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen right up until he lunges toward the window, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his icily exacting acting coach Christopher Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a sore point for Hopkins, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by him being away and drinking.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and refused to showing his emotions, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the necessity of going humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. He was a poor student at his new school. But one day in a literature class he had to recite the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was acting with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then there were grants for drama school – an opportunity for working-class actors. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, which he preferred to the stage. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He mentions going out for lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who believes you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that 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 Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply