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Widely regarded as the most iconic appearance in movie lore – while he stands without moving a muscle.

A young FBI agent, new to the job, navigates a row of prison cells finally encountering the notorious doctor's transparent prison. The man is present, with features like a living skull radiating satanic malice, eerily immobile wearing a snug prisoner's blue outfit. He doesn't move right up until he propels himself at the barrier, emitting that extraordinary hissing-slavering sound. Countless real-crime films have since revealed that real-life murderers are often very boring, with nothing resembling Hopkins' captivating film persona.

He was not an unknown at the time he got his Academy Award-winning part in the iconic film in 1989: he was already established, instead, a superstar was forged. The character of Hannibal drew influence, the actor happily remembers in his latest book, on Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on the Soviet leader as recalled by his daughter, and also from his strictly demanding Rada tutor his mentor Fettes. The scenes also contained a father-daughter dimension to these scenes; a difficult topic for Anthony, who further explains how his King Lear was subconsciously influenced by painful regret regarding his daughter Abigail, his distant daughter from his disastrous first marriage back in 1966 to his first wife, who was angered by his absences and his alcohol use.

The title originates from an old wartime photo of a young Hopkins with his father at the seaside – the boy who perhaps believed he couldn't make it. He felt confused, lonely, vulnerable little boy hailing from Port Talbot, son of Richard Arthur Hopkins, the scene-stealing supporting player in this story: a baker and a tough individual, a straightforward talker who detested the sanctimonious churchgoers at the church and refused to displaying emotion, but also exhibited wistful, tearful romanticism. It was Hopkins Sr who furiously resented the way they had to go humbly to their rich relatives including Auntie Patty, whose spouse was acquainted with the famous Bevan and helped enroll the young Anthony into an elite school: “Because they're bloody rich!” he raves in the car on the way there. “We are all expecting handouts! Absolute nonsense, that's the truth!”

The humility worked, temporarily. Hopkins was a hopeless student at his new school. But one day in an English lesson he was required to perform the poem by Masefield known as The West Wind – without prior preparation – and his voice awakened; he stunned the teacher and his classmates. He reasonably claims that poems, alone, launched him. This, along with enrolling in the YMCA theater group. Remarkably, he left school with low prospects, entered the acting world, and shocking his family, was acting with Laurence Olivier at the Old Vic in just ten years. He largely achieved it alone, even though back then scholarships existed for drama school – an opportunity for working-class actors. Richard Hopkins was continually impressed by his son's international fame: upon requesting his son to deliver the Yorick lines from Shakespeare's Hamlet, Hopkins Sr listened attentively and then retreated to another room and burst into tears.

As for the hot-tempered, strong-willed son, he left the National Theatre in a fit of pique – much to Olivier's disappointment and displeasure – but stumbled upon a memorable TV character as a potential war criminal in the show based on Uris's work, which led indirectly to characters including in Lynch's The Elephant Man and a successful acting career on screen, which he liked more over theater. And he quit booze during the mid-70s once a notorious drinker, and managed to live into his later years to achieve remarkable acting, such as Lecter, the servant Stevens in The Remains of the Day with 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 character seems more elusive, more calculated. Certain stories fall a bit flat. He mentions having lunch alongside his cast mate in Oliver Stone's Nixon, the highly regarded performer Paul, who wanted to tell him his portrayal of Nixon wasn't effective. Was this the chance for him to absorb advice from the renowned performer from Goodfellas? Not really. Anthony appears to agree with Stone's dismissal of Sorvino as being motivated out of envy. Is that so?

He repeatedly performs the no-nonsense, practical performer who believes you must to arrive punctually, learn everyone's name on set and proceed with the work. Indeed. However, he also describes standing up to an unpleasant filmmaker who'd made a young extra cry: “Say sorry to her! And acquire some decency. You ever do that again near me, I'll alter your appearance!” Hopkins sounds like an individual who stopped drinking but possibly not the combativeness that came with it. A Shakespearean like him surely knows Cornwall's speech regarding Kent from Lear: “He cannot flatter, he! A truthful and simple spirit – he must speak truth!”

He finishes his autobiography with an extensive addendum composed simply