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It stands as the greatest introduction in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, must walk a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, his face resembling an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen right up until he throws himself against the glass, emitting that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since revealed that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, far from Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not a newcomer when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own strictly demanding Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who also describes how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked his absences and his alcohol use.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in the narrative: a baker and a tough individual, a direct communicator who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and didn't believe in expressing his feelings, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who was angered by how they were forced humbly to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time there were grants to go to Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to recite the Yorick speech from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which led indirectly to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he liked more over theater. And he quit booze back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into middle age to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the latter half of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He recalls having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Indeed. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. An actor of his caliber is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply