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Widely regarded as the greatest entrance in cinematic history – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, a rookie, proceeds down a row of prison cells until she reaches Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, his face resembling a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, chillingly static clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, emitting that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since demonstrated that genuine criminals are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized when he landed the part that won him an Oscar in the 1991 thriller in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His Dr. Lecter was inspired, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and also from his icily exacting Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who further explains how his King Lear was unknowingly shaped by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, the estranged daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who disliked his time away and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he couldn't make it. He appeared lost, isolated and sensitive child raised in Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character here: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites of the chapel and refused to expressing his feelings, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who deeply disliked the necessity of going humbly to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. Then, during in an English lesson he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. Combined with participating in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school with low prospects, went into acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was acting with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time 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: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and criticism – but fortunately found a great TV role as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career in movies, that he favored over theater. And he quit booze during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and so survived into his later years to deliver outstanding roles, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

In the later sections of the book his character seems more elusive, more calculated. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He recalls going out for lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who sought to advise him his acting as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated due to resentment. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who believes it is one's responsibility to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Indeed. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologise to her! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” He appears to be a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A straightforward and sincere nature – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply