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Many consider it the most memorable entrance in movie lore – and he remains completely still.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells arriving at Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, with features like an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen until the moment he lunges against the glass, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, far from Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer when he landed that Oscar-winning role in the 1991 thriller in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar emerged. His Dr. Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and also from his icily exacting acting coach his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his failed first union back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and drinking.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a plain speaker who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and avoided showing his emotions, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented how they were forced begging to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. However, one day in a literature class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then there were grants 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 Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but stumbled upon a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in cinema, which he liked more to the stage. He stopped drinking in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more deliberate. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He remembers being taken out to lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains you must to be on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. Should you ever act that way near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be someone who gave up drink yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a lengthy appendix composed simply