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It stands as the most iconic introduction in cinematic history – and he remains without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates the line of detention units arriving at the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, appearing as a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller during the late 80s: he was already established, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, as well as his strictly demanding acting coach Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a bread-maker and man's man, a straightforward talker who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who furiously resented how they were forced cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he had to recite John Masefield's poem The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then went into another room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but lucked into an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, that he favored over theater. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the memoir his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He mentions going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks you must to be on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Quite so. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply