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Many consider it the most iconic appearance in cinematic history – yet the actor stays without moving a muscle.

Clarice Starling, new to the job, proceeds down the line of detention units until she reaches Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. He is positioned, with features like an animated death's head radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He stands frozen right up until he lunges against the glass, producing that distinctive snarling-hissing noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, with nothing resembling the actor's powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly unrecognized at the time he got the part that won him an Oscar in The Silence of the Lambs back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, but a legend was cemented. His portrayal of Lecter was based, the actor happily remembers in this new autobiography, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader based on his daughter's accounts, and on his own icily exacting acting coach his instructor Fettes. There was also a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a difficult topic for Hopkins, who recounts how his Lear was subconsciously influenced by deep-seated remorse concerning Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to Petronella Barker, who disliked his time away and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins playing on the sand with his father – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure here: a pastry chef and man's man, a direct communicator who detested the Bible-punching hypocrites in their community and refused to showing his emotions, but had a streak of dreamy, sentimental tenderness. His father who was angered by the necessity of going begging to their wealthy relations including Auntie Patty, whose husband knew the famous Bevan and was able to secure the young Anthony into a prestigious academy: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts during the car ride. “We're all hoping for some pickings! Bloody rubbish, that's what it is!”

The grovelling paid off, temporarily. Anthony struggled academically in his new institution. Then, during in an English lesson he was required to perform the verse by John Masefield titled The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he amazed the instructor and his classmates. He convincingly states that poems, alone, propelled him forward. This, and joining the YMCA drama club. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, pursued acting, and amazingly to his parents, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in just ten years. He accomplished it mostly independently, although in those days scholarships existed to attend Rada – an opportunity for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: on asking his son to recite the Yorick speech from the play Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and wept openly.

Regarding the fiery, bloody-minded son, he quit the National Theatre company out of frustration – much to Olivier's disappointment and disapproval – but lucked into a great TV role as a suspected war criminal in the series QB VII, which paved the way to roles such as in David Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he preferred compared to stage acting. And he quit booze back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived through midlife to achieve remarkable acting, including Lecter, the steward Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the old man with dementia in the movie The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more calculated. Certain stories aren't entirely successful. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in the film Nixon, the much-respected actor Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not really. He tends to concur with the director's criticism of Sorvino as driven out of envy. Truly?

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 proceed with the work. Indeed. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who brought a background actor to tears: “Say sorry to her! 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 possibly not the combativeness that accompanied it. An actor of his caliber is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A straightforward and sincere nature – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply