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Widely regarded as the greatest appearance in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, proceeds down a row of prison cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, appearing as an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, chillingly static clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself toward the window, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He was not a newcomer upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and on his own icily exacting acting coach his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and drinking.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and refused to expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the way they had to go humbly to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, temporarily. He was a poor student at his new school. But one day in an English lesson he had to recite the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He says quite plausibly that poems, alone, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but lucked into an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, which he preferred to the stage. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and so survived into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Really?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who believes it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. You ever do that again in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply