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Many consider it the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. The man is present, his face resembling a living skull radiating satanic malice, chillingly static in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, producing that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous real-crime films have since demonstrated that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, far from the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film back in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. The character of Hannibal was inspired, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. There was also a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a sore point for Anthony, who recounts how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and his alcohol use.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who loathed the religious hypocrites in their community and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by how they were forced humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. Then, during during an English class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time there were grants to go to Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but fortunately found a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, which he preferred compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live through midlife to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions having lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains it's your duty to be on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him is aware of Cornwall's lines on Kent 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 a lengthy appendix composed simply