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Widely regarded as the most memorable introduction in film history – yet the actor stays completely still.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, proceeds down the line of detention units arriving at Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, appearing as an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since shown that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly an unknown upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar emerged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his strictly demanding acting coach his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a sore point for Hopkins, who recounts how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and drinking.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler playing on the sand with his father – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a baker and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who was angered by the necessity of going humbly to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. But one day in an English lesson he had to recite the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time financial aid was available to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and wept openly.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but lucked into a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more over theater. He stopped drinking 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 movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls having lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Really?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply