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Widely regarded as the most memorable appearance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, proceeds down a corridor of cells arriving at Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless right up until he propels himself toward the window, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He wasn't exactly unrecognized at the time he got that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: a star wasn't born, but a legend emerged. His portrayal of Lecter was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own icily exacting Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a paternal-filial aspect within the narrative; a difficult topic for the actor, who further explains how his Lear was indirectly affected by an agonised guilt regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union back in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The book's name comes from a vintage war-era photograph of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, the child of Richard Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a direct communicator who loathed the sanctimonious churchgoers in their community and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the way they had to go begging to affluent family members such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he raves in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. Then, during in an English lesson he was required to perform the poem by Masefield titled The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He says quite plausibly that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater within 10 years. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then financial aid was available to go to Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe by his son's international fame: on asking his son to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and began crying.

Regarding the fiery, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey in cinema, which he liked more over theater. He stopped drinking in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it through midlife to execute great performances, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage doesn't quite come off. He recalls having lunch with his fellow actor in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the opportunity for Hopkins to learn something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal that Sorvino was acting out of envy. Really?

He repeatedly performs the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes you must to arrive punctually, remember every crew member's name and do the job. Quite so. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Apologize to that girl! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol but maybe not the belligerence that went with it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with a detailed supplement composed simply