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Many consider it the most iconic entrance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, navigates the line of detention units finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, appearing as a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen right up until he lunges at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in The Silence of the Lambs back in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar was cemented. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a difficult topic for the actor, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who resented his absences and drinking.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a baker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the way they had to go humbly to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he raves while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. But one day in an English lesson he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with the great Olivier at the Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then financial aid was available for drama school – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he left the National Theatre out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but fortunately found a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, which he liked more to the stage. He gave up alcohol in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who maintains you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply