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Widely regarded as the greatest appearance in movie lore – while he stands completely still.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, navigates a row of prison cells finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, with features like an animated death's head exuding demonic evil, chillingly static wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen until the moment he propels himself against the glass, producing that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that genuine criminals are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized upon receiving his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film during the late 80s: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. The character of Hannibal was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own strictly demanding acting coach Christopher Fettes. There was also a father-daughter dimension in these moments; a difficult topic 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 initial marriage during the 60s with Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in the narrative: a bread-maker and man's man, a plain speaker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented the way they had to go begging to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims during the car ride. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. Then, during during an English class he had to recite the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other students. He convincingly states that poems, alone, started his career. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then there were grants for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, which he preferred over theater. He stopped drinking in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who believes it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Absolutely. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a lengthy appendix composed simply