The big man bows out and leaves an indelible mark. Legendary gunfighter J.B. Books rides into Carson City, diagnosed with terminal cancer he has a short time to live. After taking a room at the widow Bond Rogers' house, he becomes something of a mentor to Bond's son, Gillom. Dignified, eloquent, perhaps even incredibly sad, The Shootist mirrors John Wayne's personal situation and closes his career (and life) with a poignant last hurrah. Based around the popular novel from Glendon Swarthout (Where The Boys Are), and directed by the astutely knowing Don Siegel (The Duel at Silver Creek), The Shootist begins with edited scenes from Books' (Wayne's) life, where he literally ages before us during this montage. Cut to his arrival in Carson City in 1901 and we are about to be witness to the end of an era. Wayne is backed up in his swansong by Lauren Bacall (Bond Rogers), James Stewart (Doc Hostelter) and an engagingly important Ron Howard (Gillom Rogers). While a big shout out has to go to Bruce Surtees' cinematography which perfectly captures the elegiac nature of it all. The message well and truly hits home and hard come the bloody finale, where with one nod of his head big John Wayne, alias J.B. Books, says more than words surely ever could. RIP - The Duke. 8/10

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I publicly take back every negative thing I ever said about John Wayne. I was so far wrong in claiming that he was just a very famous, highly overrated actor, but I blame my misconceptions on the fact that I was probably introduced to him via some of his lesser movies, or perhaps just not the kind of movie I like or usually bother with. I never have been big on Westerns, but after viewing The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, I thought he was okay. Now having just seen The Shootist, I apologize for everything I've said against him before. He was truly brilliant in this, his final movie, and it was a fitting ending for a memorable career that spanned three decades. Forget everyone else; his performance makes the movie! It really, really could've done without the unnecessary amount of bad language, but the story was great, being alternately tense and touching throughout. And, in the end, John Wayne really could say so much with just a single nod. Here's to the Duke!

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John Wayne's final big screen role sees him playing a terminally-ill gunfighter determined to go out with his boots on - and to take as much local riff-raff with his as he goes. He settles down in a boarding house run by a slightly puritanical widow - Lauren Bacall, and her teenage son played by Ron Howard. Once his doctor, James Stewart, has confirmed the worst, he manipulates some of the local ne'er-do-wells into ensuring he gets the send off he desires. His relationship with Bacall thaws, somewhat, and we end with a gentle nod to both of their different sorts of humanity. Make no mistake, this isn't at all soporific, and Wayne and veteran sparring partner Richard Boone have the odd scene to remind us of both of their younger days (Boone only survived Wayne by 2 years). It is a great, fitting send off for a man who in 1976 was as enduring a legend as Hollywood had ever produced.

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