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Widely regarded as the greatest appearance in film history – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's transparent prison. He is positioned, with features like an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He stands frozen before suddenly he throws himself at the barrier, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since shown that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, far from the actor's captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly an unknown at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film during the late 80s: he was already established, but rather a megastar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a sore point for Hopkins, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage 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 would never do OK. He felt confused, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a baker and man's man, a plain speaker who despised the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided expressing his feelings, yet possessed a touch of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who furiously resented the way they had to go begging to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. But one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that poems, alone, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with the great Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days financial aid was available to attend Rada – a path to success for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but lucked into a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, which he liked more compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the latter half of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more studied. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He recalls going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for him to absorb something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Really?

He consistently acts as the grounded, serious thespian who maintains you must to be on time, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Indeed. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply