🔗 Share this article

It stands as the greatest introduction in cinematic history – yet the actor stays completely still.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, must walk a corridor of cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless right up until he propels himself toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals are often very boring, with nothing resembling Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly an unknown when he landed that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film back in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. The character of Hannibal was inspired, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a difficult topic for the actor, who recounts how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union during the 60s with Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who was angered by the necessity of going begging to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. Then, during in an English lesson he had to recite the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that poems, alone, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then there were grants to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but lucked into a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, which he preferred over theater. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, 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 second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He remembers going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Indeed. But he also recounts facing a rude director 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! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply