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Widely regarded as the greatest introduction in film history – and he remains completely still.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, must walk the line of detention units until she reaches the notorious doctor's reinforced glass enclosure. The man is present, with features like a skeletal visage exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue prison jumpsuit. He doesn't move before suddenly he propels himself at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since shown that genuine criminals tend to be quite dull, lacking anything like Hopkins' captivating film persona.

Hopkins was hardly an unknown at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film back in 1989: it wasn't his debut, instead, a superstar emerged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his recent memoir, from Lugosi's Dracula, on Joseph Stalin based on his daughter's accounts, and also from his strictly demanding drama teacher his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a painful subject for the actor, who also describes how his portrayal of Lear was subconsciously influenced by an agonised guilt about Abigail, his distant daughter from his initial marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his absences and his alcohol use.

The book's name comes 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 was a bewildered, shy and fragile youth raised in Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a pastry chef and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who loathed the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided showing his emotions, but had a streak of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who furiously resented the way they had to go humbly to their rich relatives such as Aunt Patty, who was connected to Nye Bevan and was able to secure young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he shouts during the car ride. “We are all expecting handouts! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The grovelling paid off, for a time. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. But one day in a literature class he had to recite John Masefield's poem The West Wind – without seeing it first – and his talent emerged; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA drama club. Notably, he graduated without much hope, pursued acting, and shocking his family, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the famous theater in under a decade. He accomplished it mostly independently, though at that time there were grants for drama school – a way up for performers from modest means. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: on asking his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Hamlet, Richard listened carefully and then left the room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, bloody-minded son, he departed the theatrical troupe out of frustration – causing Olivier's regret and disapproval – but fortunately found an excellent television part as a suspected war criminal in Leon Uris's QB VII, which led indirectly to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, that he favored compared to stage acting. He gave up alcohol back in 1975 once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into his later years to execute great performances, such as Lecter, the steward Stevens in The Remains of the Day alongside Emma Thompson and the senior with memory loss in The Father – his second Academy Award.

In the later sections of the memoir he appears more reserved, more studied. A few tales aren't entirely successful. He remembers having lunch by his co-star in the film Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul Sorvino, who wanted to tell him his performance as Nixon was falling short. Was this the opportunity for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's rejection of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He often portrays the grounded, serious thespian who believes you must to arrive punctually, know all the crew's names and proceed with the work. Quite so. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who caused a young extra to weep: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. Should you ever act that way around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but maybe not the belligerence that came with it. A Shakespearean like him is aware of the lines about Kent from Cornwall from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

Hopkins concludes his book with a detailed supplement composed simply