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It stands as the most memorable introduction in film history – while he stands utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down a row of prison cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's transparent prison. There he stands, appearing as an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, chillingly static clad in a tight blue inmate uniform. He doesn't move before suddenly he propels himself toward the window, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Numerous documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not a newcomer upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding drama teacher his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a sore point for Hopkins, who also describes how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union during the 60s to his first wife, who disliked him being away and drinking.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player here: a pastry chef and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked how they were forced cap-in-hand to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that poems, alone, launched him. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school a no-hoper, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but lucked into a memorable TV character playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he preferred over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the memoir he appears more reserved, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Not really. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Really?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it is one's responsibility to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins is aware of Cornwall's lines on Kent in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he always tells the truth!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply