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Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, navigates a corridor of cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, with features like an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he propels himself toward the window, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since demonstrated that actual serial killers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for Hopkins, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who was angered by him being away and drinking.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a direct communicator who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who deeply disliked the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. Then, during in an English lesson he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other students. He says quite plausibly that poetry, on its own, started his career. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days financial aid was available to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, that he favored over theater. And he quit booze in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He mentions having lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and do the job. Indeed. But he also recounts facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply