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Widely regarded as the most memorable entrance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, a rookie, navigates a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. The man is present, with features like a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless before suddenly he lunges toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless true-crime documentaries have since revealed that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not unrecognized upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, as well as his icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for Anthony, who also describes how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a pastry chef and man's man, a straightforward talker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by the way they had to go cap-in-hand to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. However, one day during an English class he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days financial aid was available to attend Rada – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but lucked into a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, which he liked more to the stage. He stopped drinking in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He recalls being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who maintains it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “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 a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply