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Widely regarded as the most iconic entrance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates the line of detention units finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, his face resembling an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he propels himself against the glass, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that real-life murderers are often very boring, with nothing resembling the actor's commanding screen presence.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was forged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own strictly demanding drama teacher his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for the actor, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who resented him being away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a baker and man's man, a plain speaker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and refused to displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves 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. He was a poor student in his new institution. But one day during an English class he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He convincingly states that poems, alone, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed to go to Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but fortunately found a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, which he liked more over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and so survived into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for him to absorb something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply