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It stands as the most memorable appearance in movie lore – while he stands completely still.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells arriving at Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, his face resembling a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He doesn't move right up until he throws himself toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless real-crime films have since revealed that actual serial killers tend to be quite dull, far from the actor's commanding screen presence.

He was not unrecognized when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but a legend emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader according to his daughter's memories, and on his own rigorously precise acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a difficult topic for the actor, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret about Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked his absences and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and a traditional male, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the necessity of going begging to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Anthony struggled academically at the prestigious school. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He says quite plausibly 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 shocking his family, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for working-class actors. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and began crying.

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 stumbled upon a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, that he favored to the stage. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into middle age to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Some of the anecdotage fall a bit flat. He mentions being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Truly?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains you must to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply