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It stands as the greatest introduction in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, navigates the line of detention units until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own strictly demanding drama teacher his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a sore point for Anthony, who recounts how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and refused to expressing his feelings, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who was angered by how they were forced cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student in his new institution. However, one day in an English lesson he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days there were grants to go to Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He recalls having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who maintains you must to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply