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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in film history – while he stands completely still.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, proceeds down a corridor of cells until she reaches Dr. Lecter's transparent prison. There he stands, appearing as a skeletal visage filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move right up until he throws himself against the glass, making that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. Countless real-crime films have since revealed that actual serial killers are usually uninteresting, far from Hopkins' commanding screen presence.

He wasn't exactly a newcomer at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film during the late 80s: it wasn't his debut, but rather a megastar was forged. The character of Hannibal was inspired, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin according to his daughter's memories, as well as his strictly demanding Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a sore point for Anthony, who further explains how his King Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt about Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who resented his time away and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. Richard Hopkins who was angered by how they were forced begging to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the politician Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts while traveling there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a time. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day in a literature class he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and the other students. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, went into acting, and shocking his family, was on stage with the great Olivier at the famous theater in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then financial aid was available to go to Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His dad remained in awe of Anthony's global success: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Regarding the fiery, strong-willed son, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and criticism – but stumbled upon an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to parts like that in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he preferred compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking back in 1975 after being a heavy drinker, and thus made it into middle age to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the later sections of the memoir his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions going out for lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Sorvino, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with the director's criticism that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it's your duty to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Quite so. But he also recounts facing a rude director who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall from the play Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Anthony ends his memoir with a detailed supplement composed simply