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

Clarice Starling, just starting out, proceeds down a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, with features like a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless right up until he lunges toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since shown that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not an unknown upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but a legend was cemented. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers 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 Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for Anthony, who further explains how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to his first wife, who disliked him being away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a baker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. However, one day in a literature class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, launched him. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more to the stage. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the memoir he appears more reserved, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls having lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to get there on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Absolutely. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply