‘I’d just made two films in America. Shooting on a Lancashire farm was very different. There was mud everywhere – and we’d be eating dripping, jam butties and fried eggs in buns’

Whistle Down the Wind was originally a novel written by my mother, Mary Hayley Bell, about three children living on a farm in Sussex. The children – loosely based on my sister Juliet, my brother Jonathan and myself – discover a man in their barn. Thinking he’s Jesus, they decide to hide him and protect him from the adults because they don’t want the same thing to happen to him as before.

The latest in our series of writers highlighting their go-to comfort films is an ode to the teary 1994 adaptation of the classic novel

I have an ongoing argument with some friends about how I refuse to watch Interstellar again, despite considering it a beautiful and well-crafted film. It’s just so sad, I tell them, even with its hopeful ending. A desperate, choking lump forms in my chest as soon as I hear the futuristic swells of Hans Zimmer’s score and I have to remove myself before I am overtaken by emotion.

But at the same time, the movie I choose as my feelgood film is one that has reduced me to a sobbing, snotty mess time and time again, whether I’m watching it curled up with my cat on the couch, swaddled in blankets while sick in bed or jostling with my seatmate for the armrest on an airplane. And just like with the score from Interstellar, the moment I hear Thomas Newman’s wistful little oboe intro of the 1994 version of Little Women, I can feel my eyes well up with tears.

Old favourites Shaun the Sheep, Dune, Jane Austen and Godzilla join Charles de Gaulle, the Peasants’ Revolt and queer identity in Spain

• See all of our unmissable autumn arts recommendations here
• Big tech goes to Hollywood: is Silicon Valley ready for a silver-screen reckoning?

All release dates are UK and subject to change

Willem Dafoe is typically grizzled and poetic for this study of a near-retirement postal worker who, it turns out, was a beatnik rhymester of cachet – but no lasting renown – back in the day, and who has now been rediscovered by a new generation of literary hipsters. Director Kent Jones, adapting a novella by Arthur “La Ronde” Schnitzler, was the longtime head of the New York film festival; he might be in for a spot of late fame himself. AP
• 4 September

Paul Greengrass drama The Uprising was supposed to be a historical epic about the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381 – but a strange new campaign has inserted a surprising figure

Nobody likes to have the full plot of a movie spoiled before they’ve even seen it. However, sometimes this can be taken to the extreme. Take the new Paul Greengrass movie, The Uprising, for example. It is two weeks away from its US release and not only does nobody know the plot, but nobody seems to know what it is even about. Seriously, nobody at all. The film’s distributors just spent yesterday squabbling in public about whether Robin Hood was in it or not.

Here’s what we know so far. Initially, all the trailers and promotional materials made The Uprising look like a film about the Peasants’ Revolt that tore through England in 1381. And this was very exciting, since the revolt was a thrilling moment in history that has been bizarrely underserved by Hollywood over the years. Most exciting of all, though, it sounded like it fit exactly into Greengrass’s wheelhouse: full of action and realism and political awareness.