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Many consider it the greatest introduction in cinematic history – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, proceeds down a corridor of cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen right up until he propels himself toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since demonstrated that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar was cemented. His Dr. Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and also from his rigorously precise acting coach his instructor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who further explains how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who was angered by him being away and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an historical picture of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a straightforward talker who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked how they were forced humbly to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and could get young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. But one day in an English lesson he had to recite the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, went into acting, and shocking his family, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then financial aid was available to go to Rada – a path to success for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he left the National Theatre in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which eventually resulted to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, that he favored to the stage. He stopped drinking back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the later sections of the memoir he appears more reserved, more studied. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for him to absorb something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains it is one's responsibility to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Quite so. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply