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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – and he remains without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, far from the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar was forged. The character of Hannibal was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his strictly demanding acting coach Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who was angered by the way they had to go humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. But one day during an English class he had to recite the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then financial aid was available to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which led indirectly to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the memoir he appears more reserved, more calculated. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He remembers having lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Truly?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it's your duty to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Indeed. But he also recounts confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. 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 accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply