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Many consider it the most iconic entrance in cinematic history – yet the actor stays completely still.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, navigates a corridor of cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. The man is present, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, chillingly static wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself against the glass, making that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that genuine criminals are often very boring, lacking anything like the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not a newcomer at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar emerged. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and on his own icily exacting acting coach his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a sore point for Hopkins, who further explains how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and drinking.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a baker and man's man, a straightforward talker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented how they were forced begging to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the politician Nye Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. Then, during in a literature class he was required to perform John Masefield's poem The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA theater group. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time scholarships existed to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he preferred to the stage. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He remembers being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Truly?

He consistently acts as the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Indeed. But he also recounts standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply