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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in movie lore – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like a living skull exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges against the glass, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own strictly demanding acting coach his instructor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and his alcohol use.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who furiously resented the necessity of going cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more deliberate. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes it is one's responsibility to be on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply