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Many consider it the greatest introduction in film history – while he stands completely still.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, navigates the line of detention units arriving at Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, his face resembling a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move right up until he throws himself toward the window, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since shown that actual serial killers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his rigorously precise drama teacher his instructor Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect to these scenes; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and drinking.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a bread-maker and man's man, a plain speaker who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and avoided expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who was angered by the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! 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 in an English lesson he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic within 10 years. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then financial aid was available for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, that he favored over theater. He stopped drinking back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to execute great performances, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls going out for lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who believes it's your duty to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply