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Widely regarded as the most memorable introduction in cinematic history – and he remains completely still.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, must walk the line of detention units until she reaches the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, with features like an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, chillingly static clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since revealed that actual serial killers are often very boring, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's commanding screen presence.

He was not a newcomer at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, but a legend emerged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own rigorously precise Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a painful subject for Anthony, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented his time away and his drinking habits.

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 would never do OK. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the necessity of going begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he raves while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. However, one day during an English class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days financial aid was available to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but fortunately found a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he preferred to the stage. And he quit booze in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived into middle age to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He mentions going out for lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who thinks you must to get there on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Indeed. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply