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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – and he remains without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, must walk a corridor of cells finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. There he stands, with features like an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, chillingly static in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless before suddenly he throws himself against the glass, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since revealed that genuine criminals are often very boring, far from Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He was not a newcomer upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend was forged. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his strictly demanding drama teacher Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a painful subject for Anthony, who recounts how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage during the 60s to his first wife, who was angered by his time away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a plain speaker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and refused to displaying emotion, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. His father who was angered by the way they had to go begging to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during in an English lesson he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, launched him. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, went into acting, and shocking his family, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time financial aid was available to go to Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but fortunately found a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, that he favored over theater. He stopped drinking back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Truly?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes it's your duty to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and proceed with the work. Absolutely. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply