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It stands as the most iconic entrance in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, proceeds down a corridor of cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, his face resembling a living skull radiating satanic malice, chillingly static clad in a tight blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless right up until he propels himself against the glass, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. A multitude of real-crime films have since shown that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but a legend was cemented. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his icily exacting Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who resented him being away and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a pastry chef and man's man, a plain speaker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and refused to expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked how they were forced humbly to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, launched him. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then scholarships existed to go to Rada – a path to success for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and wept openly.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but fortunately found a great TV role as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he preferred to the stage. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes it's your duty to be on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! 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 someone who gave up drink but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. An actor of his caliber must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply