(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A dying gunfighter spends his last days looking for a way to die with a minimum of pain and a maximum of dignity.”
Regular readers of SciFiHistory.Net might’ve noticed that for this review of Don Siegel’s The Shootist (1976) I’ve dispensed with the usual introductory format.
To be blunt, not every motion picture needs to be discussed in general terms like I do in that preamble. Granted, I do try to open each column with a wider observation on the nature of the picture or its subject matter; but my real problem here is that The Shootist has always been one of my personal favorite Westerns for reasons I’d rather include in the wider body of discussion. So, yes, as you might’ve guessed, this is a personal experience for me; and I hope you’ll grant me a bit of leeway in unraveling my thoughts on it, its place in film history, and how it rests in my own personal pantheon of favorites.
Unlike so many, I first discovered The Shootist in its original print form. This popular 1975 tome was written by Glendon Swarthout, and – from what I’ve read – the rights for it were snatched up very, very quickly. As a part of the production deal, Swarthout insisted that his son – Miles Hood Swarthout – be contracted to pen the screenplay, a development that certainly coincides to a small degree with themes in the book, namely the father/son dynamic that gets represented by legendary gunslinger J.B. Books (played by Hollywood legend John Wayne) filling in as a surrogate father figure to young Gillom Rogers (Ron Howard). Having read (and even reread) the story, I was reasonably familiar with it when I first viewed the production on home video well after its run in the theaters; and I was thrilled with how well the resulting script stayed close to the source material.
Without belaboring the point, I’ve always said that I love The Shootist because it both is and isn’t a traditional Western. As I realize that might confuse some, let me clarify: Don Siegel imbued his picture with many of the usual tropes commonly accepted with any film in the genre, but he was also prescient enough to recognize that Swarthout’s novel functioned as a kinda/sorta ‘passing of the torch’ culturally. The days of the Wild West were quickly coming to an end as the 1800’s turned into the 1900’s, and it’s this encroaching mortality that drives the narrative and its characters. Nothing lasts forever – even legends come and go these days – and precisely how we deal with that change in reality speaks volumes about who each of us was as a person … and it’s this struggle – this finding of self in a last expression – that troubles J.B. Books up until his demise on his own terms.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A dying gunfighter spends his last days looking for a way to die with a minimum of pain and a maximum of dignity.”
Regular readers of SciFiHistory.Net might’ve noticed that for this review of Don Siegel’s The Shootist (1976) I’ve dispensed with the usual introductory format.
To be blunt, not every motion picture needs to be discussed in general terms like I do in that preamble. Granted, I do try to open each column with a wider observation on the nature of the picture or its subject matter; but my real problem here is that The Shootist has always been one of my personal favorite Westerns for reasons I’d rather include in the wider body of discussion. So, yes, as you might’ve guessed, this is a personal experience for me; and I hope you’ll grant me a bit of leeway in unraveling my thoughts on it, its place in film history, and how it rests in my own personal pantheon of favorites.
Unlike so many, I first discovered The Shootist in its original print form. This popular 1975 tome was written by Glendon Swarthout, and – from what I’ve read – the rights for it were snatched up very, very quickly. As a part of the production deal, Swarthout insisted that his son – Miles Hood Swarthout – be contracted to pen the screenplay, a development that certainly coincides to a small degree with themes in the book, namely the father/son dynamic that gets represented by legendary gunslinger J.B. Books (played by Hollywood legend John Wayne) filling in as a surrogate father figure to young Gillom Rogers (Ron Howard). Having read (and even reread) the story, I was reasonably familiar with it when I first viewed the production on home video well after its run in the theaters; and I was thrilled with how well the resulting script stayed close to the source material.
Without belaboring the point, I’ve always said that I love The Shootist because it both is and isn’t a traditional Western. As I realize that might confuse some, let me clarify: Don Siegel imbued his picture with many of the usual tropes commonly accepted with any film in the genre, but he was also prescient enough to recognize that Swarthout’s novel functioned as a kinda/sorta ‘passing of the torch’ culturally. The days of the Wild West were quickly coming to an end as the 1800’s turned into the 1900’s, and it’s this encroaching mortality that drives the narrative and its characters. Nothing lasts forever – even legends come and go these days – and precisely how we deal with that change in reality speaks volumes about who each of us was as a person … and it’s this struggle – this finding of self in a last expression – that troubles J.B. Books up until his demise on his own terms.
At this point, I have to warn readers that we’re venturing into spoiler territory. Those who traffic in these parts know that I don’t do that lightly ever – yes, even on films several decades old – because I’m remiss to tarnish any experience. However, it’s important here as I need to underscore something that the picture alters significantly from the book; and it’s kinda/sorta close to why I prefer one ending over another.
In the film, Books spends the bulk of his few last days pining away for whatever small human connection he can find. In a rather protracted timeframe, he sees the good, the bad, and the ugly of life in the West; but audiences are spoon-fed in standard Hollywood fashion that there’s a method to the madness – that each subsequent experience leads up to the gunfighter’s reflections on his life and its approaching end – and that’s all well and good. Once he’s assured by the town physician Dr. Hostetler (Jimmy Stewart) that lying in bed wasting painfully away is no way to die, Books concocts his own scheme to go out in a fitting blaze of pistols: he invites the three deadliest adversaries to a time and a place of his choosing, knowing full well that shots will be fired and – in his debilitated condition – he’s likely to lose. And badly.
But Fate can be a – pardon the expression – a “cruel bitch,” and Books – to his credit – survives, though he’s arguably not destined to long in this world. Audiences watched as ‘the Duke’ rolled over and closed his eyes for the last time, dying in the presence of young Gillom who shot down the man’s attacker, a cowardly barkeep who blasted two barrels into J.B.’s back while turned.
OK … final warning about spoilers …
In the novel, the situation is largely the same. Functionally, the greatest difference lies in the fact that Gillom isn’t as noble as he’s depicted onscreen by Howard. In fact, Gillom formatively is a bit of a bad seed who bonds with Books more over his legendary predilection for violence than he does the fact that there’s an absent father (deceased) at home. While the film gives hints that the lad has started down the path not dissimilar to that which drove Books to a life of isolation, Siegel and company perhaps found that too dour to depict on the silver screen. But as the gunslinger is bleeding out on the floor of the saloon and he comes to realization that he’s still dying too slowly, he instead asks Gillom to finish the job … and the boy does. In the novel, Gillom even leaves the bar fully in possession of Books’ six-shooters, seemingly fully committed to setting out on course to raise a little Hell all of his own … while the Siegel film shows the boy throwing the guns away and choosing a life of peace over what he witnessed.
See what I mean?
You couldn’t quite ask for two endings to be, thematically, further apart.
In the film, Books spends the bulk of his few last days pining away for whatever small human connection he can find. In a rather protracted timeframe, he sees the good, the bad, and the ugly of life in the West; but audiences are spoon-fed in standard Hollywood fashion that there’s a method to the madness – that each subsequent experience leads up to the gunfighter’s reflections on his life and its approaching end – and that’s all well and good. Once he’s assured by the town physician Dr. Hostetler (Jimmy Stewart) that lying in bed wasting painfully away is no way to die, Books concocts his own scheme to go out in a fitting blaze of pistols: he invites the three deadliest adversaries to a time and a place of his choosing, knowing full well that shots will be fired and – in his debilitated condition – he’s likely to lose. And badly.
But Fate can be a – pardon the expression – a “cruel bitch,” and Books – to his credit – survives, though he’s arguably not destined to long in this world. Audiences watched as ‘the Duke’ rolled over and closed his eyes for the last time, dying in the presence of young Gillom who shot down the man’s attacker, a cowardly barkeep who blasted two barrels into J.B.’s back while turned.
OK … final warning about spoilers …
In the novel, the situation is largely the same. Functionally, the greatest difference lies in the fact that Gillom isn’t as noble as he’s depicted onscreen by Howard. In fact, Gillom formatively is a bit of a bad seed who bonds with Books more over his legendary predilection for violence than he does the fact that there’s an absent father (deceased) at home. While the film gives hints that the lad has started down the path not dissimilar to that which drove Books to a life of isolation, Siegel and company perhaps found that too dour to depict on the silver screen. But as the gunslinger is bleeding out on the floor of the saloon and he comes to realization that he’s still dying too slowly, he instead asks Gillom to finish the job … and the boy does. In the novel, Gillom even leaves the bar fully in possession of Books’ six-shooters, seemingly fully committed to setting out on course to raise a little Hell all of his own … while the Siegel film shows the boy throwing the guns away and choosing a life of peace over what he witnessed.
See what I mean?
You couldn’t quite ask for two endings to be, thematically, further apart.
It’s at this point that I have to confess that while both last scenes work wonderfully, I think that Siegel’s choice was the better of the two, especially where the ideas of the film are concerned. As I’ve mentioned, The Shootist truly is all about the signature last days of an untamed frontier, one that’s best exemplified by the life led by J.B. Books. Ignoring the novel’s hard-boiled and pulpy finale, the director stayed true to the undercurrent that gave the picture so much of its beating heart, giving even greater poignancy to the smaller moments Books himself shares with a barber, an undertaker, a newspaper reporter, and even the widow Bond Rogers (Lauren Bacall). Some of this is tender, and some of it is a bit treacherous, but – at the core – it’s all very human … perhaps the greatest tragedy involving us all.
Lastly, there is a great deal of context to what the world was at the change of the century, and the script takes great pains to capturing them – warts and all – leaving judgment to those in the viewing audience. Books ultimately tells you what he thinks of life, the universe, and everything. He even confides in you his life’s mission statement, and it’s a doozy. But he never forces the audience to see things his way. He never really draws a line in the sand and tells you which side to stand on if you knew what was best. Instead, he leaves you pretty much as he met you, free to make up your own mind when your time comes.
Of course, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention as so many have that this was Wayne’s last theatrical hurrah. He’d struggled with cancer before, and some ongoing issues with it even sidetracked filming during a bit of production on The Shootist. There are a good many critics who’ve pontificated about how the actor’s philosophy on life might’ve overlapped in small ways with the flick; and, yes, I suppose that, too, might make viewing this Western Classic tugging on one’s heartstrings in all the right ways. But as I’ve tried to be clear I think the Duke’s performance here is a winning one precisely because it fits so well with the story as designed by the father and son team of the Swarthout family – one aging cowboy desperate to have his last stand mean something to him and no one else. That’s why I’ll always insist that The Shootist is the stuff of movie magic.
The Shootist (1976) was produced by Paramount Picture, Dino De Laurentiis Company, and Polyphony Digital. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this reported 4K restoration from the original 35mm camera negative to be exceptional on all counts. (I noticed a few sequences with an awful lot of grain, and I suspect that’s most likely owed to problems with the source.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, this is Arrow Films we’re talking about, so I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the Bluray.com listing just for accuracy’s sake:
Lastly, there is a great deal of context to what the world was at the change of the century, and the script takes great pains to capturing them – warts and all – leaving judgment to those in the viewing audience. Books ultimately tells you what he thinks of life, the universe, and everything. He even confides in you his life’s mission statement, and it’s a doozy. But he never forces the audience to see things his way. He never really draws a line in the sand and tells you which side to stand on if you knew what was best. Instead, he leaves you pretty much as he met you, free to make up your own mind when your time comes.
Of course, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention as so many have that this was Wayne’s last theatrical hurrah. He’d struggled with cancer before, and some ongoing issues with it even sidetracked filming during a bit of production on The Shootist. There are a good many critics who’ve pontificated about how the actor’s philosophy on life might’ve overlapped in small ways with the flick; and, yes, I suppose that, too, might make viewing this Western Classic tugging on one’s heartstrings in all the right ways. But as I’ve tried to be clear I think the Duke’s performance here is a winning one precisely because it fits so well with the story as designed by the father and son team of the Swarthout family – one aging cowboy desperate to have his last stand mean something to him and no one else. That’s why I’ll always insist that The Shootist is the stuff of movie magic.
The Shootist (1976) was produced by Paramount Picture, Dino De Laurentiis Company, and Polyphony Digital. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this reported 4K restoration from the original 35mm camera negative to be exceptional on all counts. (I noticed a few sequences with an awful lot of grain, and I suspect that’s most likely owed to problems with the source.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, this is Arrow Films we’re talking about, so I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the Bluray.com listing just for accuracy’s sake:
NEW 2K RESTORATION by Arrow Films from the original 35mm camera negative
Again, I’ll remind readers that when I receive press copies, that I’m not provided artwork, reproductions, booklets, etc., so I cannot speak to the efficacy of what’s reported. I’m only given the disc, so I’m sticking to the video extras. They’re solid, though I’ll admit to turning off one of them only a few seconds in as the critic/historian felt it necessary to provide his opinion of Wayne’s politics, and I found that not only a bit offensive but also completely unnecessary. (Besides, Wayne is a bigger legend than any ol’ critic will ever be.) Also, Howard S. Berger’s audio commentary was particularly boring, so I didn’t make my way through a great deal of it. (Do better, Hollywood. Do better.)
Highly recommended.
Unlike others who wax-on-wax-off about pictures, I’ll not apologize for being a terrific fan of The Shootist (1976). To me, the film represented not only the end of an era in Westerns (what with it being Wayne’s last project) but also a new beginning, one wherein perhaps the kinda/sorta sqeaky-clean days of the American Frontier could be examined in a new light. It’s a rare character story – a significant departure for the traditional oater – and its performances by the principals and supporting players deserve the mythic respect that perhaps they’ve been afforded by their respective careers. Even though arrive late on the Wild West scene, its smart adaptation proved that these pioneers still had plenty to say … even if you knew they were all destined for Boot Hill in the big finish.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of The Shootist (1976) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Brand new audio commentary by filmmaker and critic Howard S. Berger
- The Last Day, a new visual essay by film critic David Cairns
- A Man-Making Moment, a new interview with Western author C. Courtney Joyner
- Laments of the West, a new appreciation of Elmer Bernstein's score by film historian and composer Neil Brand
- Contemplating John Wayne: The Death of a Cowboy, a new visual essay by filmmaker and critic Scout Tafoya
- The Shootist: The Legend Lives On, archival featurette
- Theatrical trailer
- Image gallery
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Juan Esteban Rodríguez
- Double-sided fold-out poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Juan Esteban Rodríguez
- Six postcard-sized lobby card reproductions
- Original lossless mono audio
- Optional English Subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
- Illustrated collector's booklet featuring new writing by film critic Philip Kemp
Again, I’ll remind readers that when I receive press copies, that I’m not provided artwork, reproductions, booklets, etc., so I cannot speak to the efficacy of what’s reported. I’m only given the disc, so I’m sticking to the video extras. They’re solid, though I’ll admit to turning off one of them only a few seconds in as the critic/historian felt it necessary to provide his opinion of Wayne’s politics, and I found that not only a bit offensive but also completely unnecessary. (Besides, Wayne is a bigger legend than any ol’ critic will ever be.) Also, Howard S. Berger’s audio commentary was particularly boring, so I didn’t make my way through a great deal of it. (Do better, Hollywood. Do better.)
Highly recommended.
Unlike others who wax-on-wax-off about pictures, I’ll not apologize for being a terrific fan of The Shootist (1976). To me, the film represented not only the end of an era in Westerns (what with it being Wayne’s last project) but also a new beginning, one wherein perhaps the kinda/sorta sqeaky-clean days of the American Frontier could be examined in a new light. It’s a rare character story – a significant departure for the traditional oater – and its performances by the principals and supporting players deserve the mythic respect that perhaps they’ve been afforded by their respective careers. Even though arrive late on the Wild West scene, its smart adaptation proved that these pioneers still had plenty to say … even if you knew they were all destined for Boot Hill in the big finish.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of The Shootist (1976) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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