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Widely regarded as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, proceeds down the line of detention units arriving at Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, with features like a living skull filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move right up until he lunges toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He was not an unknown when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and also from his rigorously precise Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a painful subject for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to his first wife, who resented his time away and drinking.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who despised the religious hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who was angered by the way they had to go humbly to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “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 grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, which he preferred compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Truly?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to get there on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Absolutely. Yet he also tells standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply