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It stands as the most memorable entrance in film history – while he stands without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, must walk a row of prison cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he propels himself against the glass, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless real-crime films have since shown that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was inspired, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his strictly demanding acting coach his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a painful subject for Anthony, who also describes how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his initial marriage during the 60s with Petronella Barker, who disliked him being away and drinking.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of Anthony as a small child playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy from 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 loathed the religious hypocrites of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. Richard Hopkins who was angered by the necessity of going cap-in-hand to affluent family members including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he had to recite the verse by John Masefield The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and the other boys. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days scholarships existed to go to Rada – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but lucked into an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, which he liked more over theater. He gave up alcohol in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it through midlife to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He mentions going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not exactly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting due to resentment. Really?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who believes it's your duty to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Quite so. However, he also describes facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he always tells the truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply