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It stands as the greatest introduction in movie lore – while he stands completely still.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, proceeds down the line of detention units finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, his face resembling a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless right up until he lunges against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since shown that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized when he landed that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar was forged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, as well as his rigorously precise acting coach his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a sore point for the actor, who also describes how his Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented his time away and drinking.

The title originates from an historical picture of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a baker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who despised the religious hypocrites in their community and avoided showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. Anthony struggled academically 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 seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, launched him. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was performing with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time financial aid was available to attend Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which led indirectly to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He remembers going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who maintains you must to be on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Quite so. However, he also describes facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply