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Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in cinematic history – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down a row of prison cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, with features like a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move right up until he propels himself at the barrier, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since shown that actual serial killers are often very boring, far from Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, as well as his strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who loathed the religious hypocrites in their community and refused to showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who furiously resented how they were forced cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a posh school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, propelled him forward. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then there were grants for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more to the stage. And he quit booze back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the steward Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it is one's responsibility to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Quite so. Yet he also tells standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply