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Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in movie lore – and he remains utterly motionless.

Clarice Starling, just starting out, must walk the line of detention units finally encountering Hannibal Lecter's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, appearing as a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, unnervingly still clad in a tight blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move before suddenly he lunges against the glass, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. A multitude of documentaries on serial killers have since revealed that actual serial killers are usually uninteresting, lacking anything like Anthony Hopkins's powerful on-screen charisma.

He was not a newcomer when he landed his Academy Award-winning part in the 1991 thriller back in 1989: a star wasn't born, instead, a superstar was forged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins cheerfully recalls in his recent memoir, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, as well as his rigorously precise Rada tutor Christopher Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for Hopkins, who further explains how his Lear was unknowingly shaped by painful regret concerning Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage in 1966 to his first wife, who resented his time away and his drinking habits.

The memoir's title is derived from an old wartime photo of Hopkins as a toddler with his father at the seaside – the child who might have felt he would never do OK. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the memorable figure in this story: a bread-maker and man's man, a direct communicator who loathed the religious hypocrites at the church and avoided expressing his feelings, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. Richard Hopkins who was angered by how they were forced cap-in-hand to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and helped enroll Anthony as a boy into an elite school: “Due to their immense riches!” he shouts while traveling there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, for a time. Anthony struggled academically at his new school. However, one day in an English lesson he was required to perform John Masefield's poem known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and that voice came to life; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that verse, by itself, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school a no-hoper, went into acting, and shocking his family, was on stage alongside Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic within 10 years. He accomplished it mostly independently, even though back then there were grants to attend Rada – a way up for actors from humble backgrounds. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: when he asked Anthony to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then went into another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – to Olivier's profound dismay and disapproval – but fortunately found a great TV role playing an alleged war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which paved the way to characters including in the film The Elephant Man and a thriving starry career in movies, which he preferred compared to stage acting. He stopped drinking back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and so survived into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the butler Stevens in the film The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of his autobiography his character seems more elusive, more studied. A few tales doesn't quite come off. He recalls having lunch by his co-star in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't working. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight something from the legendary star of the Goodfellas fame? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated by jealousy. Truly?

He repeatedly performs the grounded, serious thespian who believes you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Absolutely. But he also recounts facing a rude director who brought a background actor to tears: “Apologise to her! And develop some respect. If you ever repeat that near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like someone who gave up drink but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A classical performer like Hopkins must know Cornwall's lines on Kent from the play Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! An honest mind and plain – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with an extensive addendum composed simply