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Many consider it the most memorable introduction in movie lore – while he stands utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, must walk a corridor of cells arriving at Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. The man is present, with features like an animated death's head filled with sinister intent, chillingly static clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he propels himself at the barrier, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of real-crime films have since demonstrated that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling the actor's commanding screen presence.

He was not unrecognized when he landed that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was forged. His Dr. Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a painful subject for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who disliked his time away and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a straightforward talker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the necessity of going cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and could get the young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more over theater. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He remembers going out for lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains it is one's responsibility to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Quite so. But he also recounts facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” 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 lines on Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply