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Widely regarded as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – and he remains completely still.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, proceeds down the line of detention units finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, eerily immobile clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move until the moment he throws himself at the barrier, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding drama teacher his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a difficult topic for Anthony, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who resented his time away and drinking.

The title originates from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and refused to displaying emotion, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented how they were forced cap-in-hand to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, went into acting, and shocking his family, was performing with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then financial aid was available to attend Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but stumbled upon a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze during the mid-70s after being a heavy drinker, and so survived into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book he appears more reserved, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions being taken out to lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the chance for him to absorb something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Truly?

He consistently acts as the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes 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 confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply