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Many consider it the most iconic appearance in movie lore – and he remains without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, a rookie, navigates a row of prison cells arriving at the notorious doctor's secure glass tank. There he stands, appearing as a living skull filled with sinister intent, chillingly static in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He doesn't move right up until he lunges toward the window, producing that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Countless true-crime documentaries have since shown that actual serial killers are often very boring, lacking anything like Hopkins' captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs in 1989: a star wasn't born, but rather a megastar emerged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in this new autobiography, on the classic Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, as well as his strictly demanding Rada tutor his instructor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who recounts how his portrayal of Lear was indirectly affected by painful regret about Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his failed first union during the 60s to Petronella Barker, who was angered by his time away and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the kid who maybe thought he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a plain speaker who despised the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and didn't believe in showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who was angered by how they were forced cap-in-hand to their wealthy relations like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the famous Bevan and could get Anthony as a boy into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he exclaims while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The pleading was effective, for a while. He was a poor student at his new school. However, one day during an English class he had to recite the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his voice awakened; he shocked the educator and the other students. He says quite plausibly that poetry, on its own, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the dramatic society at the YMCA. Surprisingly, he exited school without much hope, entered the acting world, and to the astonishment of his parents, was performing alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He largely achieved it alone, though at that time scholarships existed to go to Rada – a path to success for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: upon requesting his son to recite the Yorick speech from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then left the room and began crying.

Concerning the volatile, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – to Olivier's profound dismay and displeasure – but lucked into an excellent television part as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to parts like that in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career on screen, which he liked more to the stage. And he quit booze in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and thus made it into his later years to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the movie with Emma Thompson featuring Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

In the latter half of his autobiography his personality becomes more opaque, more studied. A few tales fall a bit flat. He recalls being taken out to lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who sought to advise him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the moment for Hopkins to learn a lesson from the famous actor from Goodfellas? Hardly. Hopkins seems to go along with Stone's rejection that Sorvino was acting by jealousy. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who thinks it's your duty to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Absolutely. However, he also describes confronting an obnoxious director who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And learn some manners. If you ever repeat that in front of me, I'll change the shape of your face! Anthony comes across as an individual who stopped drinking yet perhaps not the aggression that accompanied it. A Shakespearean like him must know Cornwall's speech regarding Kent in King Lear: “He is incapable of flattery! A truthful and simple spirit – he always tells the truth!”

Anthony ends his memoir with an extensive addendum composed simply