In a country in which individualism sometimes seems to blot out all other values, it was perhaps inevitable that our movie screens were for so long dominated by solemn, solitary Western stars. During the first half of the last century, audiences embraced the meanness of John Wayne, the pinched reserve of Randolph Scott, the enigmatic ambivalence of Clint Eastwood, and the inscrutable heroism of Alan Ladd. The public understood that these men’s antisocial qualities were inseparable from their guts and professionalism.

We live in a different country nowadays, and, Yellowstone and its offspring notwithstanding, we don’t have much of an appetite for Westerns. Yet audiences still hunger for hermetic men of action. Instead of the Western, though, these figures are likely to be encountered in the lone assassin movie, a distinct genre that includes masterpieces such as The Day of the Jackal, Le Samourai, and The Professional, as well as far less distinguished films, including John Wick and Bullet Train — the very existence of which nonetheless attests to the longevity of the form.