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It stands as the most iconic introduction in cinematic history – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

A young FBI agent, just starting out, proceeds down a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, unnervingly still wearing a snug blue prison jumpsuit. He remains motionless until the moment he throws himself at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless real-crime films have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, with nothing resembling Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

He wasn't exactly an unknown at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller during the late 80s: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. His Dr. Lecter drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his rigorously precise Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. There was also a paternal-filial aspect in these moments; a sore point for Anthony, who further explains how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and a traditional male, a direct communicator who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers of the chapel and avoided expressing his feelings, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who was angered by the way they had to go cap-in-hand to affluent family members like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and helped enroll young Anthony into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. However, one day in a literature class he had to recite the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He convincingly states that poems, alone, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days scholarships existed to go to Rada – a way up for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but fortunately found a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in cinema, that he favored compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol during the mid-70s having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the steward Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson with Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the latter half of the memoir his character seems more elusive, more studied. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He mentions going out for lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the esteemed thespian Paul, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as driven due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who maintains you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him must know the lines about Kent from Cornwall in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a lengthy appendix composed simply