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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – and he remains utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, with features like an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he lunges toward the window, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless real-crime films have since demonstrated that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling the actor's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own icily exacting drama teacher his instructor Fettes. There was also a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his time away and drinking.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a bread-maker and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the religious hypocrites in their community and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who was angered by the way they had to go begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. However, one day in an English lesson he had to recite John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that poems, alone, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was acting with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed to attend Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to parts like that in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the book he appears more reserved, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions going out for lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for him to absorb something from the legendary star of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply