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Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, proceeds down a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like a living skull exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen until the moment he throws himself at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like the actor's captivating film persona.

He was not unrecognized upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who recounts how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and drinking.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a pastry chef and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the religious hypocrites in their community and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who deeply disliked the way they had to go humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. However, one day during an English class he was required to perform John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated with low prospects, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then financial aid was available to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but fortunately found an excellent television part playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He remembers being taken out to lunch by his co-star in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Really?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply