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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, a rookie, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself against the glass, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film back in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and also from his icily exacting drama teacher his mentor Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his absences and his alcohol use.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a baker and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites of the chapel and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented the way they had to go begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. But one day in a literature class he had to recite the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, launched him. 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 acting with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but lucked into a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He remembers going out for lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for him to absorb something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven out of envy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Indeed. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And learn some manners. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply