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

A young FBI agent, a rookie, navigates a row of prison cells arriving at the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. He is positioned, appearing as a skeletal visage radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting prisoner's blue outfit. He remains motionless before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since revealed that real-life murderers are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not unrecognized at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs back in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in this new autobiography, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own strictly demanding drama teacher Christopher Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret about Abigail, his distant daughter from his failed first union in 1966 with Petronella Barker, who was angered by him being away and his alcohol use.

The title originates from a vintage war-era photograph of a young Hopkins on the beach with his dad – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He felt confused, isolated and sensitive child hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a pastry chef and man's man, a straightforward talker who detested the religious hypocrites at the church and refused to expressing his feelings, but had a streak of nostalgic, emotional sentimentality. Richard Hopkins who was angered by the way they had to go humbly to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he exclaims in the car on the way there. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The humility worked, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at the prestigious school. But one day during an English class he needed to deliver the poem by Masefield The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, started his career. This, and joining the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, pursued acting, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He more or less did it on his own, even though back then financial aid was available to attend Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. His dad remained in awe with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from the play Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then retreated to another room and wept openly.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he left the National Theatre in a moment of anger – causing Olivier's regret and displeasure – but fortunately found a great TV role 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 in movies, which he preferred to the stage. He stopped drinking during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and so survived into middle age to execute great performances, including Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his second Oscar.

During the second part of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more calculated. Some of the anecdotage aren't entirely successful. He recalls going out for lunch by his co-star 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 moment for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor of the Goodfellas fame? Not exactly. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Really?

He often portrays the tough, down-to-earth professional actor who maintains it's your duty to get there on time, remember every crew member's name and get on with it. Quite so. Yet he also tells facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And develop some respect. Should you ever act that way in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! An honest mind and plain – he always tells the truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply