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It stands as the greatest entrance in movie lore – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

The FBI trainee, new to the job, must walk a corridor of cells until she reaches the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. There he stands, appearing as a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, unnervingly still in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless until the moment he throws himself against the glass, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Anthony Hopkins's commanding screen presence.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin according to his daughter's memories, and on his own rigorously precise Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic within the narrative; a sore point for Hopkins, who also describes how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his failed first union back in 1966 to his first wife, who resented his absences and drinking.

The book's name comes from an historical picture of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He appeared lost, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a bread-maker and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided expressing his feelings, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who furiously resented the necessity of going humbly to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a posh school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he exclaims while traveling there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. But one day during an English class he needed to deliver the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He convincingly states that poems, alone, started his career. Combined with participating in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was acting with the great Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, though at that time there were grants to go to Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed of Anthony's global success: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a fit of pique – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but lucked into a memorable TV character as a suspected war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which eventually resulted to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he preferred compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in his film The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book his character seems more elusive, more studied. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls having lunch with his fellow actor in Stone's Nixon, the much-respected actor Paul, who intended to inform him his acting as Nixon wasn't working. Was this the moment for Anthony to gain insight a lesson from the famous actor of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Really?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who thinks it's your duty to get there on time, know all the crew's names and do the job. Absolutely. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that accompanied it. An actor of his caliber surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a detailed supplement composed simply