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Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, with features like a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he lunges toward the window, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller in 1989: he was already established, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his rigorously precise Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a difficult topic for Anthony, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a baker and a traditional male, a plain speaker who loathed the religious hypocrites of the chapel and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, temporarily. He was a poor student in his new institution. However, one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants to go to Rada – a path to success for working-class actors. His father was always amazed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but stumbled upon a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, which he preferred to the stage. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He remembers having lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for him to absorb something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply