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It stands as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates the line of detention units arriving at the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. The man is present, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he lunges toward the window, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since shown that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, as well as his rigorously precise Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for the actor, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented him being away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and refused to expressing his feelings, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who deeply disliked how they were forced humbly to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and the other students. He convincingly states that poems, alone, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed for drama school – a path to success 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 Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but fortunately found a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, which he preferred over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls having lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who maintains it's your duty to be on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply