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

Clarice Starling, new to the job, proceeds down a row of prison cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. He is positioned, with features like a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move right up until he propels himself toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, as well as his icily exacting drama teacher his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a direct communicator who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and refused to expressing his feelings, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. But one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then financial aid was available to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but lucked into a great TV role as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored over theater. And he quit booze back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into middle age to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He mentions going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply