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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in film history – and he remains completely still.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down a corridor of cells finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like a living skull filled with sinister intent, chillingly static wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he propels himself against the glass, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since demonstrated that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, far from Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, and on his own icily exacting drama teacher his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a painful subject for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked his absences and drinking.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who detested the religious hypocrites of the chapel and refused to displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the necessity of going humbly to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student in his new institution. However, one day in a literature class he was required to perform John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days financial aid was available for drama school – a path to success for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted 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 stopped drinking in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He recalls having lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not exactly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Truly?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who thinks it is one's responsibility to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Indeed. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! 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 speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply