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Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's transparent prison. He is positioned, appearing as an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he lunges toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers are often very boring, with nothing resembling the actor's captivating film persona.

He was not a newcomer when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a sore point for the actor, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and drinking.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a bread-maker and man's man, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented how they were forced humbly to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during in a literature class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then there were grants to go to Rada – a way up for performers from modest means. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, which he liked more over theater. And he quit booze back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He recalls having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Really?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it's your duty to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply