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It stands as the most iconic entrance in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, must walk a corridor of cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen until the moment he lunges at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar was forged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and on his own icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a sore point for the actor, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his initial marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who resented him being away and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and man's man, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites in their community and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. However, one day during an English class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, started his career. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then there were grants to go to Rada – an opportunity for working-class actors. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but lucked into an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored to the stage. He gave up alcohol in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the book he appears more reserved, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who believes it is one's responsibility to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director 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 yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. An actor of his caliber must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply