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Many consider it the greatest appearance in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, proceeds down the line of detention units arriving at Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, with features like a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, chillingly static wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move until the moment he lunges at the barrier, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous real-crime films have since shown that real-life murderers are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He was not a newcomer at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding drama teacher his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and refused to expressing his feelings, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. But one day in a literature class he had to recite John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, launched him. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, went into acting, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His father was always amazed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to parts like that in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, that he favored over theater. And he quit booze during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and so survived into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who wanted to tell him his acting 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. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven out of envy. Really?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who maintains you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Indeed. But he also recounts facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply