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Many consider it the most iconic appearance in film history – while he stands completely still.

The FBI trainee, a rookie, must walk a row of prison cells finally encountering Dr. Lecter's secure glass tank. There he stands, appearing as a living skull exuding demonic evil, eerily immobile in his form-fitting blue inmate uniform. He remains motionless before suddenly he lunges at the barrier, making that unforgettable spitting-growling noise. Numerous true-crime documentaries have since shown that genuine criminals are usually uninteresting, far from Hopkins' powerful on-screen charisma.

Hopkins was hardly a newcomer upon receiving that Oscar-winning role in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, but a legend was cemented. The character of Hannibal drew influence, Hopkins notes with amusement in his latest book, on the classic Dracula, on Stalin as recalled by his daughter, and also from his rigorously precise drama teacher his mentor Fettes. Additionally, there existed a parent-child dynamic to these scenes; a difficult topic for Anthony, who also describes how his Lear was indirectly affected by deep-seated remorse regarding his daughter Abigail, the daughter he was separated from from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who resented his absences and drinking.

The memoir's title is derived from an historical picture of Anthony as a small child with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he would never do OK. He was a bewildered, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, his father was Richard Arthur Hopkins, the standout secondary character in this story: a bread-maker and man's man, a straightforward talker who despised the Bible-punching hypocrites at the church and avoided displaying emotion, yet possessed a touch of wistful, tearful romanticism. His father who furiously resented the way they had to go cap-in-hand to their rich relatives like Auntie Patty, who was connected to the politician Nye Bevan and could get the young Anthony into an elite school: “Since they are extremely wealthy!” he raves in the car on the way there. “Everyone is looking for scraps! Total garbage, that's all it is!”

The pleading was effective, temporarily. He was a poor student at the prestigious school. However, one day in an English lesson he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – sight unseen – and his talent emerged; he shocked the educator and the other boys. He convincingly states that poetry, on its own, propelled him forward. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school without much hope, went into acting, and amazingly to his parents, was on stage with Laurence Olivier at the renowned Old Vic in under a decade. He largely achieved it alone, although in those days scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for actors from humble backgrounds. His father was always amazed with Anthony's worldwide acclaim: when he asked Anthony to perform the Yorick monologue from Shakespeare's Hamlet, his father paid close attention and then went into another room and began crying.

As for the hot-tempered, stubborn individual, he quit the National Theatre company in a moment of anger – to Olivier's profound dismay and criticism – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the series QB VII, which led indirectly to roles such as in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a luminous film journey on screen, which he preferred to the stage. He stopped drinking in 1975 having been a hell-raising alcoholic, and managed to live through midlife to deliver outstanding roles, like Hannibal Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day featuring Emma Thompson and the elderly man with dementia in his film The Father – his next Oscar win.

During the second part of the book his personality becomes more opaque, more deliberate. A few tales fall a bit flat. He mentions being taken out to lunch with his fellow actor in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who wanted to tell him his acting as Nixon was falling short. Was this the chance for Anthony to gain insight advice from the renowned performer of Scorsese's Goodfellas? Hardly. Anthony appears to agree with the director's criticism of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes you must to be on time, learn everyone's name on set and do the job. Indeed. However, he also describes facing a rude director who'd made a young extra cry: “Apologize to that girl! And acquire some decency. If you ever repeat that around me, I'll rearrange your face! He appears to be an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that went with it. An actor of his caliber must know Cornwall's lines on Kent in King Lear: “He does not know how to flatter! A truthful and simple spirit – he is compelled to be honest!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply