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Many consider it the most iconic entrance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, proceeds down the line of detention units arriving at Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges toward the window, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was forged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his strictly demanding drama teacher his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for the actor, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked his absences and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a baker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. Then, during during an English class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time financial aid was available to go to Rada – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but lucked into a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He remembers being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who maintains it's your duty to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Indeed. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply