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Widely regarded as the greatest appearance in cinematic history – yet the actor stays utterly motionless.

The FBI trainee, just starting out, proceeds down a corridor of cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, his face resembling a living skull exuding demonic evil, chillingly static clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He stands frozen before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless documentaries on serial killers have since shown that genuine criminals are often very boring, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown upon receiving the part that won him an Oscar in the iconic film during the late 80s: he was already established, instead, a superstar was cemented. The character of Hannibal was based, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding drama teacher his instructor Fettes. There was also a father-daughter dimension within the narrative; a painful subject for the actor, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was unknowingly shaped by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union during the 60s with Petronella Barker, who was angered by his absences and his drinking habits.

The title originates from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child on the beach with his dad – the kid who maybe thought he wouldn't succeed. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy raised in Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in the narrative: a baker and man's man, a direct communicator who despised the religious hypocrites of the chapel and didn't believe in displaying emotion, but also exhibited dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who was angered by the way they had to go begging to their wealthy relations such as Aunt Patty, whose husband knew Nye Bevan and was able to secure Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he shouts in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a while. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. But one day in an English lesson he needed to deliver John Masefield's poem titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and his classmates. He reasonably claims that verse, by itself, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Notably, he graduated without much hope, went into acting, and shocking his family, was acting with the great Olivier at the Old Vic in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed to go to Rada – a path to success for performers from modest means. His father was always amazed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

Concerning the volatile, bloody-minded son, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but lucked into a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which eventually resulted to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. And he quit booze in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and thus made it into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day with Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of the book he appears more reserved, more studied. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls having lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Sorvino, who sought to advise him his portrayal of Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn advice from the renowned performer of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?

He consistently acts as the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who believes you must to get there on time, learn everyone's name on set and get on with it. Quite so. Yet he also tells confronting an obnoxious director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! Hopkins sounds like a person who quit alcohol yet perhaps not the aggression that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a detailed supplement composed simply