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Widely regarded as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's transparent prison. The man is present, with features like an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move before suddenly he lunges at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since shown that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, as well as his strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a sore point for Hopkins, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a pastry chef and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who was angered by the way they had to go humbly to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. Then, during in a literature class he was required to perform John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, entered the acting world, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed for drama school – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then went into another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but stumbled upon a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, that he favored over theater. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live through midlife to execute great performances, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He mentions having lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Truly?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes you must to be on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply