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It stands as the greatest appearance in film history – and he remains without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, must walk the line of detention units until she reaches Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, appearing as an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move until the moment he propels himself against the glass, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, far from the actor's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was cemented. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own strictly demanding Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a sore point for Anthony, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who resented his time away and drinking.

The title originates 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 felt confused, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. Then, during during an English class he had to recite the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He says quite plausibly that poems, alone, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His father was always amazed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but lucked into a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, that he favored to the stage. And he quit booze in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He recalls having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Absolutely. But he also recounts confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A Shakespearean like him is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply