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Many consider it the greatest appearance in movie lore – and he remains completely still.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, navigates a corridor of cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, appearing as a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, chillingly static wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he throws himself at the barrier, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not unrecognized upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller during the late 80s: he was already established, but a legend was forged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and also from his icily exacting drama teacher his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a sore point for the actor, who further explains how his King Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his failed first union in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by him being away and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a bread-maker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and could get young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student in his new institution. However, one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem The West Wind – without prior preparation – and that voice came to life; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, launched him. This, and joining the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days scholarships existed to go to Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in movies, which he liked more over theater. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into middle age to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

During the second part of his autobiography 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, who intended to inform him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for him to absorb a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Hardly. He tends to concur with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as driven by jealousy. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Absolutely. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Anthony comes across as a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that went with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply