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Widely regarded as the most memorable entrance in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, proceeds down a row of prison cells finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, with features like an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile clad in a tight blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless right up until he propels himself toward the window, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like the actor's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own rigorously precise drama teacher his mentor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for the actor, who also describes how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his failed first union during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a direct communicator who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and refused to showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who was angered by the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. But one day in an English lesson he had to recite John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days scholarships existed for drama school – a path to success for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but lucked into a great TV role as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored to the stage. He gave up alcohol in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into his later years to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of the memoir his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He recalls going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it is one's responsibility to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Indeed. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply