Robert Duvall Breaks His Silence On John Wayne After Decades — The Feud No One Knew About

At ninety-four years old, Hollywood legend Robert Duvall has lived through an era of filmmaking that few can even imagine.

He’s worked with the greatest directors, starred alongside the biggest names, and shaped characters that defined American cinema.

But even after all these decades, one story has followed him like a shadow — his bitter and complicated relationship with John Wayne.

And now, after staying silent for years, Duvall has finally decided to tell the truth about the man who, according to him, hated him more than anyone else in Hollywood.

It all began on the set of True Grit in 1969, the western that would earn John Wayne his first and only Academy Award.

At the time, Duvall was a rising star, known for his intensity and his refusal to compromise his craft.

Wayne, on the other hand, was already an icon — the symbol of the American cowboy, proud, commanding, and larger than life.

When these two strong-willed men collided, sparks flew — and not in a good way.

Duvall recalls that the tension began almost immediately.

“John was used to running the show,” he once said quietly.

“He had a way of doing things that worked for him — big gestures, booming voice, classic hero stuff.

But I came from a different school of acting.

I wanted realism, rawness, truth.

And I think that rubbed him the wrong way.”

The young Duvall’s intensity and refusal to play things “the Duke’s way” quickly got under Wayne’s skin.

According to Duvall, the legendary cowboy star wasn’t shy about letting his feelings show.

“He’d yell across the set,” Duvall recalled.

“He’d call me names, curse me out, tell me I was doing it all wrong.

He didn’t like that I talked back — but I wasn’t going to back down.”

The arguments became so heated that crew members began whispering about them behind the scenes.

One assistant cameraman later described the atmosphere as “like walking on eggshells.

” Both men were too proud, too strong, and too different to find common ground.

Wayne believed in old-school heroism; Duvall wanted to tear that apart and show the flaws underneath.

One day, the conflict reached a boiling point.

As the story goes, Wayne exploded at Duvall in front of the entire crew, shouting that he would never work with him again.

Duvall, unfazed, gave as good as he got.

“We yelled until our voices gave out,” he said with a small laugh.

“After that, we didn’t talk unless we had to.”

Behind that tension, however, was something far more complex.

Duvall admits now that beneath Wayne’s bravado, he saw a man deeply protective of his image — and of the myth he had built around himself.

“John Wayne wasn’t just an actor,” Duvall said softly.

“He was an idea.

America’s cowboy.

The man who never lost.

And I think he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone challenging that — especially someone younger who didn’t buy into the myth.”

Still, Duvall never stopped respecting Wayne’s presence on screen.

“You can’t deny what he represented,” he said.

“He was one of a kind.

When he walked into a room, everything stopped.

You felt it — that weight, that aura.

He was the real deal, even if we didn’t see eye to eye.”

After True Grit, the two men went their separate ways.

Duvall went on to build one of the most respected careers in Hollywood — from The Godfather to Apocalypse Now to Tender Mercies.

Wayne continued making westerns, carrying the torch of a fading era until his death in 1979.

For decades, rumors swirled about their feud.

Some claimed Wayne refused to watch Duvall’s later films.

Others said Duvall mocked Wayne’s acting behind his back.

Duvall stayed mostly quiet — until now.

At 94, sitting in a quiet interview reflecting on his life, he finally addressed the truth.

“People think we hated each other,” he said.

“And maybe he did hate me, I don’t know.

But hate’s a strong word.

I think it was more that we didn’t understand each other.

He came from one world, I came from another.

We both believed in what we were doing — just in different ways.”

When asked if he ever regretted how things went between them, Duvall paused.

“You know,” he said, “I think about it sometimes.

Maybe if we’d met later, when we were both older, we could’ve talked.

Maybe we would’ve even laughed about it.

But at that time, we were both stubborn as mules.

Neither of us was going to bend.”

There was, however, one moment that Duvall never forgot.

Years after True Grit, he ran into one of Wayne’s close friends, who told him that despite everything, Wayne had once praised Duvall’s acting in private.

“He said I was damn good,” Duvall recalled with a faint smile.

“That meant more than he’ll ever know.”

When asked what he would say to John Wayne if he could speak to him now, Duvall grew quiet.

“I’d tell him I respected him,” he said finally.

“That we were different, but that’s what made it interesting.

We were both chasing truth — just from opposite directions.”

Time has softened Duvall’s edges but not his honesty.

“Back then, I was young and full of fire,” he said.

“He was the biggest star in the world.

We were bound to clash.

But I’ll tell you this — I learned something from him.

He taught me what conviction looks like.

He believed in who he was, no matter what anyone thought.

That’s rare.”

As Hollywood continues to change, Duvall looks back on those days with a mix of pride and melancholy.

“There’ll never be another John Wayne,” he said.

“He was the last of his kind.

You might not agree with everything he stood for, but you can’t deny he stood for something.

And maybe that’s why we fought so hard — because we both cared too much.”

At 94, Robert Duvall’s confession feels less like bitterness and more like a tribute — a recognition that two men, forged in the fires of different generations, could clash so fiercely and still leave a mark on each other’s souls.

And as he leaned back, eyes distant with memory, he added quietly, “In the end, maybe he didn’t hate me.

Maybe he just saw too much of himself in me.”

And with that, one of Hollywood’s longest-running mysteries finally found its answer — not in anger, but in understanding.