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It stands as the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, proceeds down a corridor of cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen before suddenly he lunges toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own strictly demanding Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who resented his time away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going humbly to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. But one day in a literature class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time there were grants for drama school – a path to success for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but fortunately found an excellent television part playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he preferred over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Really?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it's your duty to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Quite so. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply