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It stands as the most iconic introduction in movie lore – and he remains without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, proceeds down a row of prison cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. The man is present, his face resembling a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless right up until he throws himself against the glass, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, with nothing resembling the actor's commanding screen presence.

He was not a newcomer at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. His Dr. Lecter was based, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own rigorously precise Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for Anthony, who recounts how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a bread-maker and man's man, a direct communicator who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites of the chapel and refused to showing his emotions, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. However, one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days there were grants to attend Rada – a path to success for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then left the room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but fortunately found a great TV role as a potential war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to roles such as in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more over theater. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of his autobiography he appears more reserved, more calculated. Certain stories doesn't quite come off. He mentions going out for lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul Sorvino, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains it's your duty to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Quite so. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way 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 went with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's lines on Kent from the play Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A straightforward and sincere nature – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply