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It stands as the most iconic entrance in movie lore – yet the actor stays completely still.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates the line of detention units until she reaches the notorious doctor's transparent prison. There he stands, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges against the glass, producing that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless true-crime documentaries have since shown that genuine criminals are often very boring, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly an unknown upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film back in 1989: he was already established, but a legend emerged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who also describes how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked him being away and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and man's man, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites in their community and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who deeply disliked the necessity of going begging to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. Then, during in a literature class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated without much hope, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and wept openly.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but lucked into an excellent television part as a suspected 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 in movies, which he preferred to the stage. And he quit booze back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book he appears more reserved, more studied. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He remembers being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it's your duty to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and get on with it. Indeed. But he also recounts confronting an obnoxious director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. An actor of his caliber is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply