I didn’t share all my Father’s tastes. He liked Gary Cooper and Randolph Scott, two actors I’ve only come to appreciate in recent years. And as I’ve grown older I’ve started to reassess some of the things we did agree on. I find myself appreciating Robert Ryan’s work now, an actor my dad hated. But, having watched Red River again recently, I still find Montgomery Clift ill-suited to the role of Wayne’s adopted son, something that always spoilt the film for my Dad, but there’ll be more on that in a future article.

Wayne the man was far more complex than he’s often given credit for. He was a patriot, yet failed to serve his country in World War II, gave vocal support to McCarthy’s communist witch hunt, yet years later worked with blacklisted writer Marguerite Roberts on True Grit, was outspoken against homosexuals but starred opposite Rock Hudson in The Undefeated, and he made three films with Kirk Douglas, an actor who he disagreed with strongly on political issues. Douglas later commented that Wayne was a professional and would work with anyone if he thought they were right for the part.

He was also adverse to foul language in films, something my Dad certainly agreed on. I remember watching The Exorcist for the first time with him. Each expletive would be followed by a “tut” and if you’ve seen The Exorcist you’ll know that amounted to an awful lot of tuts. Yet in real life Wayne swore like a trooper, so it’s unlikely my Dad would have liked the real Wayne. It was the screen image that he admired, the big tough man of action. For him the legend was far more important than the man.

I wasn’t the only family member to become enamoured of Wayne; my brothers, Tony and Andrew are fans and my nephew Daniel has just begun to discover Wayne’s films, something you’ll be reading about on here soon.

Many of my most vivid memories of growing up are film- or TV-related and several were shared experiences with my father; watching the BBC science fiction series Survivors, seeing The Towering Inferno for the first time on the big screen, and discovering another favourite genre, horror, are just some of the highlights.

We continued to watch films together until his death in 2004. Even now when I watch a modern western like Open Range I find myself thinking, “Dad would have enjoyed that”.

Over the next week I’ll be taking a decade by decade look at Wayne’s work, starting with the '30s and his first taste of stardom and concluding with the '70s and his final film The Shootist, picking out his best work along with some personal favourites. Among the highlights will be my Dad’s favourite, The Quiet Man.