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Many consider it the most memorable appearance in cinematic history – while he stands completely still.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, must walk a row of prison cells arriving at Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. There he stands, his face resembling a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, chillingly static clad in a tight prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move until the moment he throws himself against the glass, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of true-crime documentaries have since revealed that real-life murderers tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was cemented. His Dr. Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his rigorously precise acting coach his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic in these moments; a sore point for the actor, who also describes how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked him being away and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an historical picture of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a bread-maker and a tough individual, a plain speaker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers of the chapel and didn't believe in expressing his feelings, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who was angered by how they were forced begging to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and could get young Anthony into a posh school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The humility worked, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. However, one day in a literature class he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, started his career. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Notably, he graduated a no-hoper, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for working-class actors. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but lucked into a great TV role playing an alleged 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 cinema, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the book he appears more reserved, more deliberate. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He remembers going out for lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul Sorvino, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes it's your duty to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and get on with it. Absolutely. However, he also describes facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply