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It stands as the greatest entrance in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, proceeds down the line of detention units finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, his face resembling a living skull radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges at the barrier, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, far from the actor's commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized when he landed that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: he was already established, instead, a superstar emerged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his rigorously precise acting coach his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the necessity of going cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. However, one day during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He says quite plausibly that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time there were grants to go to Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, that he favored to the stage. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live 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 senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He remembers going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Really?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who believes you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Quite so. But he also recounts confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply