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It stands as the most iconic introduction in film history – and he remains completely still.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, navigates a corridor of cells arriving at the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he throws himself at the barrier, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since revealed that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He was not unrecognized when he landed that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but a legend was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and on his own icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a painful subject for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who loathed the religious hypocrites of the chapel and refused to expressing his feelings, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. Then, during in an English lesson he had to recite John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then scholarships existed for drama school – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and thus made it through midlife to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He mentions being taken out to lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Really?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply