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It stands as the greatest introduction in film history – and he remains completely still.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, navigates the line of detention units finally encountering Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, his face resembling a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still clad in a tight blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself toward the window, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like the actor's commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly an unknown upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was cemented. The character of Hannibal was inspired, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his rigorously precise acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a painful subject for Anthony, who further explains how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked his absences and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and man's man, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked the way they had to go begging to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student in his new institution. However, one day during an English class he had to recite the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for working-class actors. His father was always amazed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he left the National Theatre in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but lucked into a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, which he preferred over theater. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into middle age to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls being taken out to lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who believes you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Quite so. Yet he also tells standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. An actor of his caliber surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply