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Widely regarded as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – yet the actor stays completely still.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, proceeds down a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, with features like a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, chillingly static wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he lunges toward the window, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that genuine criminals are often very boring, lacking anything like the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not a newcomer at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but a legend was forged. The character of Hannibal was based, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his rigorously precise drama teacher his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for the actor, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and his drinking habits.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a bread-maker and man's man, a plain speaker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the way they had to go begging to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he was required to perform John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and the other students. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character playing an alleged 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 thriving starry career in movies, which he preferred compared to stage acting. And he quit booze during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer 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 from Goodfellas? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it's your duty to be 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: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply