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Many consider it the most iconic introduction in cinematic history – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he throws himself against the glass, producing that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since shown that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. His Dr. Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and also from his rigorously precise drama teacher Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a sore point for Anthony, who recounts how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who resented his absences and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a pastry chef and man's man, a straightforward talker who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented how they were forced cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a while. He was a poor student in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants for drama school – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and wept openly.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which paved the way to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, that he favored over theater. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and thus made it through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He recalls having lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks you must to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and get on with it. Indeed. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that came with 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 is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply