You can't go home again, but you can recreate it on film. Oftentimes, a director will take a semi-autobiographical approach to a film early in their career, when the story that they feel most compelled to tell is one of their childhood or teenage years. Other times, a director farther along in their careers is able to light a new creative spark by mining their own past. Luckily, most of these films ended up being either commercially or critically successful, so there clearly is an audience for these types of ultra-personal films. With the upcoming releases of The Souvenir: Part II and Belfast, as well as a Steven Spielberg autobiographical film on the way, there seems to still be a place in cinema for directors telling their own story.

Here are some of the best:

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The 400 Blows (1959)

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Image via Kino Lorber

François Truffaut’s debut is not just one of the most influential movies ever made, but also introduced the way in which a director could tell their own personal story with breathtaking intimacy. The 400 Blows centers on Antoine Doinel, a kid who can’t help but get into trouble on the streets of Paris. Much like the young Truffaut, Antoine comes from a somewhat fractured family, being passed around to live with various family members before finally living with his mother and stepfather. However, despite Antoine’s troubles with his parents and the authority figures at school who can’t figure out what to do with him, we see that cinema is an escape for him. This hints at the obsessive nature towards cinema Truffaut would adopt as an adult while writing for the film magazine, Cahiers Du Cinema, with many other cinephiles-turned-directors who would create the French New Wave. One of the ideas that Cahiers Du Cinema emphasized was the auteur theory, in which the director is the sole author of a film, much like the author is to a novel. It’s hard to think of a better early example of this than The 400 Blows, since by incorporating the story of his own childhood and the kinds of playful techniques that Truffaut would return to throughout his career, it’s impossible to imagine the film being made by anyone else.

Amarcord (1973)

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Image via Warner Bros.

While The 400 Blows sees its director looking at the past from the perspective of its teenage protagonist, Armarcord feels much like we’re experiencing a flood of memories coming back to the director as he looks back on his youth. The film sees director Federico Fellini returning to the coastal town in Northern Italy that he grew up in, Rimini. Specifically, it sees him recreating the time in which Mussolini’s Fascist party had seized power in Italy, though before the tumultuous era surrounding World War II. The film is less interested in making a political statement than it is in showcasing a revolving door of colorful characters that exemplify the kind of vibrancy and humanity that can still flourish even when those in power are trying to oppress them. It makes for a film that perhaps ends up smoothing over some of the rough edges of this period in Italian history, but the affection that Fellini has for these characters is truly infectious, and whether any of them are real or imagined, show how much these types of people had stuck in Fellini’s mind even in this later stage of his career.

Fanny and Alexander (1982)

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Image via Sandrew Film

It’s hard to think of a filmmaker more committed to exploring themes that only adults are forced to ponder than Ingmar Bergman. This makes it somehow fitting that Bergman decided to make his final film about childhood, and specifically a childhood not unlike his own, growing up in Upsala, Sweden. Originally conceived for Swedish TV as a 4-part miniseries and released theatrically in a trimmed down (but still sprawling) 188-minute version, Fanny and Alexander clearly contains subject matter that Bergman had no trouble diving head-first into. It’s one of Bergman’s warmest films, possibly due to the fact that the children whose eyes we see the film through are less encumbered by the cynicism and ponderousness that plagues the adults of Bergman’s other films. Still, Bergman manages to wrestle with the brutishness of the adult world by having Alexander (Bergman’s film avatar) constantly struggling with his bishop stepfather and his strict Christian morals. The most touching moment in the film might also be the most personal, when we see Alexander playing with a magic lantern, a moment that Bergman has thoroughly recounted from his own life that would hint at his future fascination with the magic of cinema.

Crooklyn (1994)

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Image via Universal Pictures

Though there is a character in Crooklyn that is a fictionalized childhood Spike Lee (he has oversized glasses and loves the Knicks), this is the rare example of a film that’s autobiographical for multiple storytellers. This is because while Crooklyn was directed by Spike Lee, and is undeniably a Spike Lee film in style and tone, he also wrote it with his two siblings Joie Susannah Lee and Cinqué Lee. This feels more than appropriate for a film centered on a family living in Brooklyn in the 1970s, who bear a resemblance to the real-life Lee’s (the family’s father is a composer and mother is a teacher, much like Spike Lee’s own parents). The film is an underrated little gem in Spike Lee’s filmography, and there’s something especially poignant about how he's less interested in exploring his own story than that of his parents’ struggles with raising a family as well as that of Troy, the lone girl of the siblings in the family. Reflecting on the film in 2017, Lee said the three siblings who wrote the film were unintentionally writing a love letter to their mother, and it’s remarkable the way the film manages to radiate that warmth while not glossing over the fact that their family didn’t always grow up under ideal circumstances.

Almost Famous (2000)

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Image via Paramount

This may be the hardest to relate to of all the films discussed here, and yet also might be the one where the director has claimed the most events in the film actually happened. Yes, through a series of fortuitous circumstances, a 15-year-old Cameron Crowe became a writer for Rolling Stone in the mid-70s, where he covered such rock luminaries as The Allman Brothers, Led Zeppelin, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. In Almost Famous, he turns these experiences into one streamlined story, as Crowe’s stand-in, William Miller (Patrick Fugit), finds himself in the same situation as the teenage Crowe, except going on tour with a fictional band called Stillwater. It’s a love letter both to ‘70s arena rock as well as the journalists that covered them, all while giving the 1970s the same wistful gaze that’s usually reserved for the 1960s. Even if Crowe's films have been ever-diminishing since, at least Almost Famous saw him as a golden god capable of the kind of sweetness few can pull off.

The Squid And The Whale (2005)

The Squid and the Whale Cast
Image via Samuel Goldwyn Films

Noah Baumbach has stated a number of times that there’s a degree of fiction to The Squid And The Whale, even if the core of the movie has a lot of parallels to his parents’ divorce. Regardless, it’s hard not to connect some of the uncertainty in Walt (Jesse Eisenberg’s character and the film’s little Baumbach) to the grown-up Baumbach while making this film. He was reluctant to tackle subject matter so close to his own experiences, and at first, wanted co-writer Wes Anderson to direct. He also wasn’t sure that divorce was that interesting of subject matter and also didn’t think the world needed one more dramedy about New York intellectual types (though the fact that no one wants to watch Woody Allen movies anymore makes The Squid and The Whale an appealing alternative). However, this delving into more personal material paid off, as it rejuvenated a career that had stalled out after Baumbach’s '90s films and kicked off the middle period of his career that saw him etching more mature sketches of characters that are both charming and caustically annoying at the same time.

The Tree of Life (2011)

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Image via Fox Searchlight

This, of course, is the hardest film to verify in terms of how autobiographical it is, since Terrence Mallick is one of cinema’s most notorious recluses. Still, one can’t help but get the sense that what’s on the film’s mind is also what’s on Mallick’s mind when he reflects on his childhood and his place in the universe. This is because the film focuses on the O’Brien family, who just like Mallick’s family, lived in Waco, Texas, and seemed to have an ambitious and domineering father much like the one Brad Pitt plays in The Tree of Life. The majority of the film takes place in this '50s Texas setting, with the most overtly autobiographical element being the combative relationship that the young boy Steve has with his father, which judging from the accounts of family friends, doesn’t seem dissimilar from Mallick’s own relationship with his dad. While the aimless architect that Steve grows up to be in the film’s present-day sequences doesn’t quite line up with Mallick himself, it still feels like we’re seeing a distillation of his feelings on nature and spirituality, even if he’ll never give an interview that'll reveal whether that’s true or not.

Lady Bird (2017)

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Image via A24

Another instance where the director has made some comments to dispel the notion that a film is entirely autobiographical, as Greta Gerwig has said “nothing in the movie literally happened in my life, but it has a core of truth that resonates with what I know.” This is certainly believable, since the pugnacious teen we follow in Lady Bird doesn’t quite match the breezy energy we’ve gotten to see in Gerwig’s acting before she made the transition to directing. Seeing as Gerwig clearly has a love for collaborating with actors (and Saoirse Ronan), the character could be seen as an amalgamation of the teenage Gerwig and what Ronan brought to the role. But whether the events in the film really happened to Gerwig or not, it’s hard to imagine any other director could evoke such a personal love letter to Sacramento. It’s far from the most romanticized California city on film, but watching Lady Bird, you’d never know it. Gerwig illuminates her own relationship with her hometown by evoking the complicated feelings everyone has with their hometown, and how even if you cursed it as a teen, it’s an inseparable part of who you are.

The Souvenir (2019)

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Image via A24

Talking about how autobiographical The Souvenir is, Joanna Hogg initially wanted to deny any parallels to her own life, then saying “I thought it was ungenerous not to admit they’re my own memories.” Much like The Souvenir’s protagonist Julie, Hogg was a film student in the early ‘80s who had a relationship with a much older man who was also a heroin addict. It turns out to be an eye-opening introduction to adulthood for Julie, and Hogg does a disarming job of filling the film with the feeling of discovery that comes with being that age, but also tempering it with the heartbreak of how thoroughly messed up this relationship is. Adding another layer of meta-reality to the film is the fact that Julie is played by Honor Swinton Byrne, the daughter of Tilda Swinton, who was actually a classmate of Hogg when she was in film school during the time depicted in the film. Also, with the coming of The Souvenir: Part II, much like the most pivotal times in any artist’s life, you could say this moment is just the beginning.

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