The Case of the Purple Woman

On the request of Greg, a frequent visitor to the blog, here is a post for season 2's The Purple Woman. I am really surprised to find I didn't highlight it already, nor have I written a post about all the art-related episodes. It's very strange, as I thought I did both things. (I have finally found the latter. i knew I was sure I'd made one.)

Art is a recurring topic on Perry. I believe there was at least one art episode per season! I am not sure what the attraction was for the show creators and writers, but it definitely makes for classy and compelling story-telling.

MeTV is currently showing the later seasons and has just finished up 6. It feels a little strange to go from that to season 2. Season 2 still had some of that noirish, time capsule feel more prevalent in the earlier episodes, while later seasons by and large feel more contemporary. I tend to prefer the latter, but I do enjoy a good noir and there are many excellent episodes among the earlier ones.

The central focus of this venture is a mysterious painting called The Purple Woman by Van Houten. I always wonder with episodes like this if the painting is actually real. I can't seem to learn much, unfortunately, but there is, actually, a painting by a Georges van Houten called Portrait of a Lady in Purple. It doesn't really resemble the Perry painting. There is also a Dutch artist called Gerrit van Houten, who apparently mostly drew sketches. The episode, however, refers to a Carl van Houten (or "Hooten"), so I'm guessing the artist and the painting are made up, but possibly inspired by the Georges van Houten painting. That disappoints me a little, as up to now I've been assuming they were real.

Frequent classic TV guest-stars Bethel Leslie and Robert H. Harris appear here, Bethel as the defendant, the wife of a man who swindled a collector with a fake painting, and Robert as the frustrated artist who painted it. Both give masterful performances. Bethel is always a treat to see and Robert's characters always feel real somehow. Frustrated artists can be hilarious, and this guy is no exception. Aaron Hubble is arrogant and conceited, but fully believes he's being modest to say he's a genius since "of course" it's true. I am usually highly amused by conceit when it's played at least partially for humor, and it is so here. Towards the end, however, it actually becomes a bit sad when it's clear how desperately he clings to this idea that he painted a beautiful copy, and when Perry finally proves him the murderer, he's initially upset but then decides it's a great thing, as now he has a ton of free publicity. Priorities mixed up much?

Bethel's character is trapped in a loveless marriage with a creep and feels she can't divorce him because her family would frown on it. Her father is a prominent churchman. Religion doesn't often play a part on Perry, aside from the excellent season 5 episode The Renegade Refugee, but this is an interesting tidbit in this venture. A reporter is in love with her, and whether she sees him as anything other than a friend or not, she won't allow anything to go on between them and did not answer a stack of romantic letters he sent her. She did, however, care about them and hold on to them until she felt she had to burn them before their existence could come to light. Her husband had tried to use them against her and she didn't want anything else to go wrong because of them. The episode doesn't address whether anything will happen between her and the reporter now that her husband is dead.

All of the guests are very good, although I'm not as familiar with most of the rest of the guest cast despite seeing some of them in other classic TV roles. Perry was always hailed as a high quality show with A grade performances, and this episode doesn't disappoint. The murder victim is completely sleazy and wretched, the kind you can't feel too badly for when they wind up dead. His secretary is foolish enough to genuinely love him despite his cruelty. And the art collector who gets swindled is very proud of his collection and determined to keep up appearances, insisting that he has always had the genuine painting until Perry produces a second one and gets him to admit that he was swindled and later had to buy the original from the same guy.

The main cast is also in top form. One amusing scene has Tragg show up when Perry and company are just settling down to lunch somewhere (perhaps at Clay's), and announce to some news that they won't like. But then instead of telling the details of what it is, he says with false kindness that he won't tell it now and spoil their lunch. Of course, by letting them know there's bad news for them at all, he's already spoiled it and he very well knows it. A bit immature and classic Tragg.

I knew there was something I particularly liked about this episode, but I couldn't fully remember what until we arrived at the epilogue. It is the episode where Hamilton shows up to congratulate Perry on winning the case. Della is surprised, but Perry quotes an article Hamilton wrote in which he said "A well-tried criminal case is a credit to all involved. There is no winning or losing in the true administration of justice." He then invites Hamilton to join them for lunch. It's a lovely ending to the episode and one of the earliest incidents showing the emerging friendship between Perry and Hamilton.

Also, Perry has a modern art painting on the wall behind his desk that appears to be a kitty. Perhaps he loves cats as Raymond Burr did? I love it!

59 years of Perry on television!

It's hard to believe that we're looking at 59 years of broadcast history for our show this year. Next year, it celebrates its diamond anniversary. And for the very first episode filmed, it may already be the diamond year. I believe the first filming occurred in 1956.

The show is still perennially popular. What fuels this? Is it the acting? The stories? How has it stayed so beloved in spite of its formulaic nature and its predictability? Or is that part of what makes it so fondly remembered?

Over the summer, one of the things I've been doing is reconnecting some more with my childhood. This included finally getting back to the 1987 version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, which I know I watched even though I remembered very, very little of it. It is probably one of the silliest, more formulaic shows in existence, and I find I adore it. Not so much for the formulaic nature, but because of its unbridled, unapologetic nonsense and fun, free spirit. And it got me thinking.

It isn't unusual for adults as well as children to enjoy cartoons. Looney Tunes, I believe, were originally aimed at a more grown-up audience. And they are both perennially popular and very formulaic. In the modern age, one of the most popular cartoons with both children and adults is Phineas and Ferb, which is also extremely formulaic and predictable. If you've seen one or two episodes, you know they always follow a particular pattern, no matter what screwball events happen along the way. Even when they did a ridiculous episode consisting of unintelligible "caveman talk" for most of the episode, it was easy to follow along because the viewer knew exactly what to expect from each character.

Could part of the appeal with a show like Perry Mason be that by its formulaic, predictable nature, it is almost like a cartoon for adults?

I realize that on some level it probably sounds like sacrilege to compare a drama about murder and courtroom trials to anything silly and animated. But in both a cartoon and Perry, we have definite formulas. Some people find comfort in knowing that there is a basic outline that will always play out: an innocent person has problems with someone who ends up dead, they're arrested, and Perry will come to their rescue.

Also like cartoons, Perry always features conflicts between the protagonists and the antagonists. We always expect the antagonists to be shown up as fools while the protagonists win. Some viewers, perhaps even a great percentage of them, enjoy laughing at Hamilton Burger and the police as the wrong person is arrested over and over again and they remain convinced it's the right person.

The great thing about Perry is that, unlike many cartoons, the characters are not just "one-note" characters. It would have been so easy to have made Hamilton a stereotypical sleazy prosecutor who deserves to get shown up every episode or the police buffoons with barely any functioning brain cells. Instead, Hamilton and the police are always depicted as very three-dimensional characters who honestly want justice done and are willing to listen when Perry brings hard evidence that they may have accused the wrong person. They only accuse the wrong person because they are victims of the formula. Because they are three-dimensional, it becomes difficult to believe that they are making mistakes every episode. They feel real, and real people would not constantly be stumbling like that. Everybody would be kicked out of their jobs if situations like Perry presents were really happening left and right. And so another cartoon element comes into play: we must suspend disbelief in order to enjoy what we're watching.

Of course, that is the case with most television series we watch, in one way or another. No one could be knocked unconscious as many times as Joe Mannix is and not suffer brain damage for it. But it wouldn't be any fun if Mannix had been completely given the realistic treatment. And Jim West could never fight off so many bad guys all the time and break all the furniture without seriously injuring himself. But what fun would The Wild Wild West be if the fights were about realism?

Cartoons have definitely had their influence on live-action television. Thankfully, live-action television doesn't have horrifying things happen like what goes on in Looney Tunes cartoons. But we see exaggerated fights, protagonists not suffering life-altering injuries, and the good guys winning out over the bad guys. We also see that antagonists are not always the bad guys and that sometimes they're the good guys too. Sometimes cartoons do show this, it's true, but it's sometimes in the background and not expressly stated. Some people may think the same for Perry, but it does generally strive to let the audience know that the police and the D.A.'s office are highly thought-of by Perry and that he does not see them as buffoonish antagonists. Classic television series like Perry combine some of the formulaic nature of cartoons with the realism of three-dimensional characters, and that is actually quite an impressive achievement. Here's to the next 59 years of our show!

And in a week and a half, my own anniversary will come around and I will no longer be a member of the "twenty-something" group. I'm not sure, however, that I want to change this blog's name. Somehow, the younger one is, the more interesting it seems to me when they love the classics, so "twenty-something" sounds like a more interesting hook for a Perry blog than "thirty-something." But for the sake of accuracy, I may change it anyway.

The Case of the Unknown Parentage

And so we arrive at March 11th, the anniversary of Erle Stanley Gardner's death in 1970. He gave us the wonderful characters who made up the original Core Five and wrote all the original novels first bringing them to life. He lost control over his characters for the 1930s films and the 1940s radio series and demanded better for the television series. Whether or not one agrees with every decision he made for the television series (and I don't always), I am thrilled for him that he finally had and kept control over his beloved series and characters for the best-loved media adaptation. Regardless of whether one wishes the show had tried some other paths every now and then, Mr. Gardner apparently knew what he was doing by making and keeping his rules; the formulaic nature of the series remained the same for nine popular seasons.

I wonder what he would have thought of the idea of The New Perry Mason, had he lived to see it. Much of the crew was still the same, and they tried to be faithful to the original series in both the scripts and the characters' behaviors, but some of the performances still fell very flat. (I find it both amusing and terrible that Monte Markham reportedly jeered at Raymond Burr's portrayal of Perry, yet clearly tried to imitate his speech pattern in the episodes!) I like to think Mr. Gardner would have complained about some of the casting, at least. But who knows. Maybe he would have liked it all. Or maybe he would have disliked it all.

In any case, I am, as always, very grateful to him for his imagination, his skill at weaving mysteries, and his intriguing characters. Because of Mr. Gardner's writings, we have the wonderful Perry Mason television series to watch and enjoy and the characters are still fondly remembered decades later. All thanks to whatever inspired Mr. Gardner to start writing The Velvet Claws. Thank you, Mr. Gardner.

I have fallen very far behind in watching my Perry DVDs, even though I was trying to keep up with MeTV's nighttime schedule. I'm in season 6 and am picking and choosing my way through the season by mainly selecting episodes I rarely watch. I suddenly discovered something very odd. While every season of Perry has at least one episode where a child's parentage is questioned, kept secret, etc., season 6 has an explosion of such episodes!

To demonstrate my point, here is a list I've compiled of all such episodes I can pick out from a titles-only episode guide. If anyone else can think of more, feel free to remind me in the comments!

Season 1

The Baited Hook (Daughter's true parentage was the reason for the murder.)

The Empty Tin (The initial mystery revolves around trying to find a man's real daughter.)

Season 2

The Stuttering Bishop (The mystery involves a girl being told her parentage is not what she thought.)

Season 3

The Watery Witness (The initial mystery concerns a girl trying to find out if she is the daughter of movie star Lorna Thomas.)

Season 4

The Wandering Widow (A woman tries to keep her son from learning about his horrid real father.)

The Nine Dolls (Perry tries to find a young orphan's identity.)

The Duplicate Daughter (Twins separated at birth.)

Season 5

The Borrowed Baby (Perry tries to find the family of a baby left in his office.)

Season 6

The Unsuitable Uncle (A girl's true father's identity is kept secret from her.)

The Stand-In Sister (Confusion over which man's daughter survived a car crash.)

The Polka-Dot Pony (Two girls are discovered when searching for a woman's long-lost child.)

The Bluffing Blast (A young woman shows up claiming to be the daughter of a man who supposedly didn't have any children.)

The Skeleton's Closet (A woman tries to prevent the news of her children's real father leaking out.)

Season 7

The Nebulous Nephew (Confusion over whether a boy is really a long-lost nephew or a con artist.)
The Simple Simon (A large part of the mystery stems from the fact that the defendant has a son somewhere and believes him to be one person when he is in actuality another.)

Season 8

A Place Called Midnight (A girl is distressed over being an orphan with no known family name. Not a major plot point, but since it is there and it's a large part of the character's emotional makeup, I'll include it.)

Season 9

The Fugitive Fraulein (Trying to retrieve the correct granddaughter from behind the Iron Curtain. This one may be stretching it a bit, but there is an attempt to confuse the girl's identity.)

Wow. So why was that such a popular plotline in season 6? It's the only season to have more than three such episodes, unless there's others I've forgotten about.

One possibility would be that the same person wrote them and it's a plot device they like. Well, among the five season 6 episodes, two were written by Robert C. Dennis, two by Samuel Newman, and one by Robert Leslie Bellem. Every episode is thankfully extremely different in the plot details, which is why I assume this was allowed to happen and every script greenlit, but it's still rather curious to suddenly realize that so many episodes had the concept of unknown parentage in one season!

In the end, I suppose there's no real answer as to why. For some reason, the writers' inspiration just traveled on that path that year. Most of the season 6 episodes with that plot device are not among my favorites or semi-favorites, aside from The Polka-Dot Pony, but I've liked the others a lot better on this viewing.

In Memoriam: William Hopper

And so we come to another March 6th, another anniversary of the date William Hopper tragically left us far too soon in 1970. Eerily enough, Erle Stanley Gardner died within the week of the same year and we lost two key figures in the shaping of Perry Mason.

William Hopper brought his immortal contributions to Perry when he showed up to do a screentest for Perry Mason himself. He definitely left an impression and ended up cast as our beloved Paul Drake. That was most certainly a wise choice. He brought so much heart and soul to our cast and the reunion movies feel so lonely without him.

I love when Paul gets a chance to be tough and show his stuff, since sometimes he's used as a comic relief character. One of my favorite scenes is in The Stand-In Sister, when he corners the escaped criminal by calmly and smoothly holding a gun on him at the top of the pier as he starts to climb up.

That season 6 episode also has the curious distinction of being the only one, I think, to actually have kind of a downer epilogue. Even if the courtroom scenes end rather grimly, the epilogue usually tries to cheer things up and end the episode on a happy note. In The Stand-In Sister, however, the epilogue has John Gregory talking to his criminal brother Stefan and wondering why he changed his mind and lied on the witness stand in Gregory's favor instead of telling all the things he threatened to that would make Gregory look horrible. Stefan growls that he has to be nice, since Gregory is holding all his money for him. Gregory, who had apparently hoped that there was some spark of brotherly affection as the reason, goes back over to Perry looking downcast and the episode ends. Um, ouch.

The only other episode I can think of that ends rather grim doesn't even fully count, as it's season 9's The Vanishing Victim and it only appears grim because the version usually shown on television cuts off the epilogue for some bizarre reason. In the televised version, it generally ends with Hamilton talking to the murderer and telling him that he has one more trip to take and this time he can't pass it off on someone else to take for him. The real ending is that silliness with Perry and Paul and the money Paul is charging for expenses that Perry decides to give to Steve for charity tickets without Paul's permission. I still wonder whether Paul is really charging unfairly and hence, Perry might be somewhat justified in his actions, or if Paul is being perfectly fair (aside from maybe nineteen cents, heh) and Perry is not being very nice to just give all of Paul's money away. I usually tend to lean more in Paul's favor, since Perry has unfairly taken money away from him in other episodes such as The Married Moonlighter, although I still wonder.

Paul has some interesting hobbies. Fishing seems to be a casual thing with him, judging by the fact that he fishes with Perry in season 5 yet doesn't seem to know a lot about where specific kinds of fish can be found in season 7. He seems to want to take up golfing, at least in season 9, as he wants those clubs in The Vanishing Victim and then the very next episode is The Golfer's Gambit and he's out practicing on the green. He's in excellent physical shape, as shown in The Carefree Coronary, and he likely works out and exercises to be in top form for the very physically demanding parts of his job.

Of course, Paul's favorite hobby, most likely, is dating. And admiring beautiful women. Several episodes have scenes with him getting distracted by women, and many more have him either on dates or talking about going on dates. Or, unfortunately, being pulled away from dates. But, always the loyal friend, he goes about doing whatever Perry wants done.

Paul is more skeptical than Perry. Many times he's certain that a client is guilty, or at least, is wary of their innocence. But he supports Perry anyway. And in The Angry Astronaut, when Paul brings the case to Perry, he says that he thinks the client is guilty but that he still deserves the best counsel. Paul can be a good judge of people at times, though, such as when he pegged Mark Chester as a weak-kneed slimeball in The Candy Queen.

All of the Perry characters are very human and three-dimensional. Paul is definitely not an exception. He can be funny. He can be serious. He makes good decisions and bad. And all in all, Perry Mason could never be the same without him. William Hopper is still very loved and missed.

A moral dilemma

Friday night MeTV showed The Illicit Illusion. It still isn’t one of my favorite episodes, but it’s certainly unique, in any case.

Of course, the biggest issue with that episode is concerning the question Were Hamilton and Andy justified in what they did? I’ve struggled with that since the first time I saw the episode. At least it couldn’t technically be branded entrapment, but was it right to turn the woman’s husband loose while knowing that the supposed suicide of his partner was murder and hoping that the husband and wife would try (or seem to try) to make a break for it?

Mom has seen the episode with me several times and has said nothing. This time, however, she was very vocal and exclaimed, “Talk about tricks!”

I still don’t know what to make of it. The episode itself appears to cast an ill light on their actions, albeit nothing is actually said as to whether it’s right or wrong after the point when Andy says that they never suggested flight and Hamilton admits he knew about the murder at the time of release. Part of me says that they were justified since they didn’t actually suggest the idea of flight and were just watching to see how it would play out. The other part says that what they did relies too much on circumstantial evidence and could easily get an innocent person arrested (which is exactly what happened).

But one thing I certainly say is that while it may not have been right, I do not think for one moment that it comes close to comparing with some of the stunts Perry had pulled, as Mom seemed to feel it did.

Take what happened just the other day, for instance. Perry lures a witness in The Garrulous Go-Between by sending her a message that leads her to believe the man she loves is dying. Paul even lies down and gets under the covers to pretend to be the guy when she arrives. That is all very cruel. At least Perry acknowledges that he’s sorry for doing it, but that seriously appalled me. I’d forgotten he did that. It appalls me every time I see the episode.

And then of course there’s the mess in The Mystified Miner, where Perry deliberately sets up a scenario to obliterate his client’s fingerprints from her car because he knows her prints on it would help to build a case against her.

Actually, while that may be perfectly in line with what the book Perry would do, it seems out-of-character for television Perry. In general, television Perry insists on giving the police guns, pictures, and other evidence when he knows they’re needed, even if having those items will help them build stronger cases against the clients. To deliberately ruin evidence is not like him.

Of course, every now and then he does highly eyebrow-raising things, such as his destruction of the book in season 1’s The Screaming Woman. And The Mystified Miner was also from a season that was more book-influenced than some. But it still seemed a shocking thing to do, especially since by season 5 he wasn’t often engaging in such book-influenced behavior.

I’ve never been fully sure of what to think of his antics of “testing the witnesses’ memories”, either. He’ll use that as his excuse when he renders a witness unreliable after tricking them, but as one of the judges said, there’s a fine line between testing memories and throwing dust in the prosecution’s case. I rather liked that they let the judge say that, instead of just completely letting Perry get away with it without acknowledging that while he may be technically within his rights, it’s still a trick.

I’ve often thought that I would not want to be a defense attorney, since that would require me to take cases and do things and make arguments to get people off who probably really shouldn’t get off. With Perry, of course, almost all the defendants are innocent, but in real-life it’s more likely to be the opposite. And either way, it’s not always easy for me to root for the defense attorneys when they’re pulling shenanigans I don’t agree with.

Naturally it isn’t right for the prosecution to pull tricks either. I don’t agree with that or with the conditions of many of the plea bargains that unfortunately exist and that prosecutors feel forced to propose. But there are degrees, and as I said, I don’t think Hamilton and Andy’s actions could ever be lumped in the same category with some of Perry’s most appalling stunts.

I’m still a little surprised that incident happened in one of Samuel Newman’s scripts, actually, since he usually tries to cast the prosecution in a better light. Even though it wasn’t technically entrapment, I’m sure it didn’t help the ill feelings that many viewers probably already had for the prosecution.

I wonder how the incident would have been portrayed had it happened in a series that focused more on the prosecution or the police. Would it have been depicted as justified? Or would it have been presented as not justified and everyone involved would be in trouble for doing it? I believe I’ve seen some series where similar incidents were portrayed as justified, or at least, that the characters involved did not suffer a penalty for doing it since it turned out that they were right in their suspicions. On the other hand, the private eye series Mannix also portrayed such antics in a highly derogatory light.

Perhaps the truth lies somewhere in between. Or perhaps there are no real answers, as it may be a matter for each person’s individual moral code.

Extra! Extra! Read all about Mr. Mason! (Or Mr. Burger!)

So I’m writing a non-Perry story based on the adventure quest genre and decided to have some of the clichés, including a heavyset bad guy in white. I opted to base the character on Perry alumnus Dan Seymour. I’ve already written a story with a Victor Buono-inspired bad guy, and Dan Seymour seemed the next most logical choice.

The Ancient Romeo is not a favorite episode of mine and never has been. When I saw it was on MeTV tonight, I decided to see what was on the local station instead. I see that episode so seldom I didn’t recognize its opening scene at first, but I recognized Dan Seymour’s voice before he actually walked onscreen. I’m rather pleased about that.

The episode was The Silent Partner, which probably gave Dan Seymour his meatiest screentime on Perry. Even though I’ve come to prefer its remake, The Candy Queen, I like the earlier episode and decided to watch it instead of MeTV’s offering. I am, however, wondering why the local station was showing season 1 when they were in the middle of season 4! I hope they haven’t decided to only air episodes through most of season 4 now. It was bad enough when they cut out most of 7, all of 8, and half of 9!

It’s always a little odd to go back to season 1 episodes after watching later episodes. I will probably always prefer the later episodes, as sacrilegious as that likely sounds to some fans, but there’s no denying that the early episodes featured very twisty, noir-ish plots.

They also feature a Perry who doesn’t always put the interests of worried clients first. Okay, so even a bit later there are times when he really doesn’t want to take a case, but season 1 seems to bring us the majority of the times when he has a client and doesn’t always jump to their aid or even wholly believe them. He’s a much more cynical Perry. Here, he wants to work on a brief instead of immediately going to Mrs. Kimber’s aid, suggesting she come tomorrow as opposed to that night. It’s understandable that he would be worried about the brief, but it’s just interesting to note that he doesn’t drop everything to see about Mrs. Kimber that night. Della, however, thinks that he should do exactly that.

But this post isn’t going to be one that examines the differences between Perrys. The main thing I was thinking about this time around was how the press features into the episode and how often they’re around in the series at all. I was also thinking about Hamilton’s approach to the press and how that seems to change over time.

There really aren’t very many occasions when the main characters are shown being hounded by reporters. This episode gives us a glimpse into what has been happening on that front, with the reporters hanging on the friction between Perry and Hamilton and rushing off to make their stories when Perry says “No comment” in response to being asked if he really, deliberately told his client to fire a second bullet from the gun to make a paraffin test inconclusive.

Perry and Hamilton are on very bad terms here, with each calling the other by his last name and not even affording the courtesy of a “Mr.” for the sake of the press if nothing else. Hamilton is stressed and angry, believing that Perry has broken the law, and he treats the reporters in a very clipped manner. Perry is cold to Hamilton but gracious to the reporters; in spite of the “No comment” remark, he delivers it in a calm and collected tone.

Contrast this season 1 incident with a scene from season 9, where Hamilton is cornered by reporters in The Carefree Coronary. (Oddly enough, Dan Seymour is in this episode too.) Now Hamilton is calm, cool, and collected, handling the questions with grace and ease and telling the reporters that he isn’t going to make any case against Perry until he sees what the outcome of the inquest is.

Hamilton is definitely more of an ally by the final season. And he has also matured in other ways, including not losing his temper as often. (When he does, though, it’s a beaut, like in The Fatal Fortune.) Perhaps he would have handled the reporters smoother even in season 1 if he hadn’t been so stressed at the moment; we see him in the season 1 episode The Terrified Typist, rather pleased and triumphant as he talks to a reporter after court (albeit we don’t hear what he’s saying). But it’s an interesting contrast between season 1 and season 9 anyway.

Also of interest to note is that while in The Silent Partner and other early episodes, Perry goes to the police for help (i.e., Lieutenant Tragg), in later episodes such as The Carefree Coronary he’s more likely to appeal to Hamilton (despite Steve being the most genuinely friendly of the three policemen). Ah, how times change through the seasons. I just love their always-developing friendship.

(And yet another interesting contrast, as others have noted, is Hamilton’s reaction to getting an onscreen win. While in The Terrified Typist he’s clearly pleased with himself for getting a conviction, in season 7’s The Deadly Verdict he is very sobered. Even though in both cases he believes the defendant is guilty, he has always recognized that it’s still a somber thing for someone to be sentenced to death, and in The Deadly Verdict, this feeling is more visibly prominent than in the earlier episode.)

EDIT: I just remembered that Perry is cornered by reporters in The Grinning Gorilla, when they mob him to ask about him taking on the case. At that point, he had not agreed to take the case and it was very awkward for him. It's been so long since I saw the episode that I no longer recall how he handled the situation. I vaguely remember that he was so taken by surprise that he didn't know what to say at first. I think in frustration he then tried to say he had not taken the case, but never finished that statement.

I actually can’t think of any other times where we both see and hear Hamilton or the other main characters talking to reporters about themselves. Perry has to fend off reporters bothering his clients sometimes, such as in The Wrathful Wraith, and there’s a couple of times when Perry or Hamilton appears in newspaper stories, including Hamilton’s win in The Deadly Verdict, but as far as actual interaction between the main characters and reporters where reporters want to write about them, it’s quite rare. (So are those other news-related incidents, actually.)

Still, even though we are only allowed glimpses into what happens when the press pounces on our main characters, they are fascinating little glimpses. In early seasons I imagine reporters in L.A. make it big describing all the latest clashes between Perry and Hamilton, while reporters of the later seasons are stunned and amazed by all the times the two actually work in harmony together. And judging by the tongue-in-cheek example of the “District Attorney Victorious” headline in The Deadly Verdict, I wonder if the reporters make a big deal out of any time Hamilton actually wins a case.

I subscribe to the idea that he won more than we saw onscreen, and that there were actually more times that he won onscreen than what is generally noted by viewers (such as all the times a case went to jury trial instead of remaining a preliminary hearing), so I’ll admit I do hope that the reporters don’t make like a win by Hamilton is a rare event.

That said, the headline in The Deadly Verdict is amusing. A nice smidgen of humor in one of the darkest (and best) episodes of the series.

More book news, and the uncut Barefaced Witness

I bring more exciting news on the book front, as Richard is interviewed about it: http://www.bookpleasures.com/websitepublisher/articles/7271/1/Hollywood-Actor-Richard-Anderson-Discusses-Acting-and-His-Memoir-With-Norm-Goldman-of-Bookpleasurescom-/Page1.html#.VGbCF9JDvq7 The interview is awesome in general, and now we have confirmation that Perry Mason will be discussed within the book’s pages! I hope there will be a nice, meaty section on it.

And The Barefaced Witness was on MeTV this past night. The television version has never made a great deal of sense to me and I’ve had the feeling that it’s one of the most cut-up episodes, so I decided it would be the perfect time to watch the uncut version.

I was definitely right about it being chopped up. So many scenes were missing, specifically almost everything that specifically showed or mentioned that ridiculous festival the town was having. And since that was kind of pivotal to the whole plot, even being brought up in the episode’s title, it’s absolutely preposterous that those scenes were removed!

I think that concerning that subject, the cut version of The Barefaced Witness only keeps the scene in the café where Paul looks at the list of the nine clean-shaven people arrested during the festival week. But it’s so weird for that to be the only mention of the festival. That makes it seem such a throwaway thing when it’s actually important to the solution of things. I don’t recall the opening sequence at all, which showed the silly signs about clean-shaven people being arrested and guys walking around with beards. And the scene with Paul arriving and ending up being forced to take part in the mock arrest for being clean-shaven was certainly missing.

Paul sure was a good sport about that. The police were pretty nice, contrary to the visions that have been dancing through my mind for years, and it all seemed to be in good fun. I wonder, though, what would have happened had someone not wanted to participate in the silliness. Someone could have arrived not knowing about the festival and have needed to meet someone in a hurry, and I doubt they would have liked being sidetracked into being arrested and fined for such a nonsensical reason! And it wouldn’t have seemed very fair, either. It didn’t seem fair as it was to fine people who didn’t even know anything about it.

One thing that seriously amuses me is that the local reporter played by Adam West apparently refused to be part of things. I suppose he was fined, but he must have been okay with that and preferred it to wearing a fake beard all week or growing a real one.

Adam West’s Perry characters seem to follow a pattern of being very protective of the girls they like. Both this guy and the character Adam plays in The Bogus Books are like that.

One intriguing thing about this episode, which isn’t as clear in the cut version, is that it’s really a Paul vehicle. Perry appears in the scene where Paul’s client wants the folder found, and then he goes to look for it when Paul isn’t available, but other than that, he doesn’t even appear again until they’re actually in court! There’s not even a scene of him talking to the defendant before court convenes. The whole mystery starts because of a past case of Paul’s, as the client is coming to him about some new twists, and Paul is the main player until the case goes to court. That’s neat; I like episodes that cast more of the spotlight on the other characters.

Another thing I was specifically looking for in this episode was the district attorney, Mr. Hale. I found it interesting that the first witness says his name straight-out while being questioned. It certainly shows how laid-back and familiar they are in that town. But I wonder if it was also there because the writer wanted everyone to know that yes, the D.A. was indeed Mr. Hale from earlier episodes and not just another character played by the same actor.

I like Paul Fix and his character is interesting in how he definitely brings a rural, laid-back manner to the courtroom. I wonder if that was why they used him multiple times, to make quite the contrast with Perry the “big city” lawyer.

The episode has never been a particular favorite of mine, but that’s always been partially due to being so puzzled by the cut version. Knowing it’s a Paul episode makes it more intriguing to me. And I like Adam West, both from The Bogus Books and from Batman, so I enjoy seeing him guest-starring. It will probably never rank among my most favorite episodes ever, but in its uncut form I will probably enjoy seeing it now and then, especially in order to see a lot of Paul in action.

And today is Joseph Campanella’s 90^th birthday! Awesome! I wish he was a Perry alumnus, but unfortunately he never appeared on our show. He does have a Raymond Burr connection, having appeared on four Ironside episodes. I saw The Happy Dreams of Hollow Men last month when MeTV aired it and I was thoroughly impressed anew by his acting abilities. He and Raymond Burr are the main players and carry most of the episode alone. It’s highly intense, as Joseph’s character descends into drug withdrawal and desperation and Ironside tries to keep him grounded in reality.

I’m still repulsed by the character flipping out and pitching Ironside to the floor, and later threatening him with a rifle, and it shows what a wonderful and loyal friend Ironside is, to keep believing in his friend amid all of that. The way the episode ends, with Ironside going to him as he sobs on the floor in despair and telling him to lean on him as they leave, is very powerful and poignant.

I will always wish Joseph had been on Perry, but I’m glad to have the four Ironside episodes to showcase his interaction with Raymond Burr and the other excellent cast members.

The Singing Skirt: Book vs. Episode

I have been seriously neglecting this blog this month. Part of it is because of my annual October Writing challenge, to write ten or eleven creepy stories in October, and they’re turning out longer than other years, so I’m devoting more time to them on this round.

Another part is that I haven’t been able to think hard enough to come up with a new topic I want to discuss. Unfortunately, I once again didn’t get up a special anniversary post back in September to celebrate the day our show premiered. But after seeing The Singing Skirt again and looking over the book summary, I am intrigued enough to want to muse on the similarities and differences between the two versions.

Most names are different in the book version, as usual. George Anclitas and Slim Marcus retain theirs. Some characters’ names are oddly similar, such as Ellis instead of Ennis. Other characters’ names are completely changed, including the defendant’s.

It’s interesting that Slim Marcus and George Anclitas are working together in the book to cheat Mr. Ellis, instead of Slim doing it behind Anclitas’s back. And the amount of money is much less—$6,000 instead of $60,000.

The basic plot is more or less the same as the episode, including the thing of Anclitas framing people with marijuana cigarettes when he wants them out of the picture and Perry switching guns and causing even more of a problem because of it. But of course, since a little 50-minute episode can’t hold everything, the book is much more fleshed-out than the episode.

Also the same is the defendant not being so squeaky clean, which isn’t as big a deal in the books but is in the episodes. She’s having an affair with Mr. Ellis, which seems to be more pronounced in the book than it was in the episode. In the episode, they still seemed to be trying to tone it down somewhat by it being said that they only went out two or three times (albeit that may have been a lie).

The biggest difference between the two versions, and the one I find most pleasing, is that Slim Marcus is not the murderer in the book. However, it’s kind of sad that in the book it’s actually Mr. Ellis. After the defendant was so crazy about him, he just kills his wife and lets the defendant take the rap. And in addition to dating her, he was also dating her friend Sadie! I guess that’s what she gets for getting involved with a married man.

According to Storrer’s site, the books tried to build up on the tension between Perry and Hamilton by having Hamilton get closer each book to either getting Perry in (probably deserved) trouble or getting the defendant convicted. I suppose that means that was kind of the gimmick of the books, as opposed to the episodes’ gimmick of the wrong person always being arrested. In The Singing Skirt, to make the tension even more pronounced, even Della disbelieves the client is telling the truth.

That is unusual for the episodes too, isn’t it? There’s been quite a few times when Paul has disbelieved, but it seems like Della usually sticks with whatever Perry thinks. Or even times when Perry doesn’t want to take a case because he’s skeptical, Della encourages him to do so. I think about the only time television Della was absolutely not thrilled with Perry’s involvement was in The Velvet Claws, when Della could see how dangerous the client was but Perry kept trying to help her anyway.

That element of Della encouraging Perry to take cases he isn’t that interested in seemed to be a theme running through several mystery series. The same thing happened several times on Mannix, with Peggy encouraging her boss to take certain cases. It seemed very strange and even out-of-character when later on, in season 7, there were two or three occasions where Peggy was convinced that Joe’s theories were baloney and that he should drop the cases because the clients were not worth helping.

Since both Della and Peggy serve as the consciences for their bosses during those rare but human times when they would rather do something other than take on a particular case, it’s odd to see either of the girls being cynical and trying to discourage their bosses instead. Of course, in the case of The Velvet Claws, Della’s objections are understandable, while Peggy’s objections in the season 7 episodes are puzzling. Why those cases any more than any others? They’re not any stranger, nor the clients any more suspicious, than many of the others. Our Velvet-Clawed lady, on the other hand, is extremely unique in her manipulations of and flirting with Perry. I can’t think of another client quite like her in any way, and that is negatively speaking.

But I digress. The Singing Skirt is actually not one of my favorite episodes; were it not for H.M. Wynant taking part, it would probably have been destined to remain as one of my least favorites, due to all the shenanigans with the guns that Perry causes and the resulting problems in court because of them. Also, it is the last episode to feature Hamilton until the last two episodes of the season. And I find myself quite unprepared for the long stretches of Hamilton-less episodes in the remainder of season 3 and much of season 4! Maybe, since now I own most of them on DVD, I’ll watch the uncut versions instead of just seeing the cut versions over once again. I’ve hardly seen any of those episodes uncut, so that will at least be a fun adventure.

And I do look forward to The Crying Cherub in any case, as I think Sergeant Brice and Lieutenant Tragg have some nice interaction in it. I also particularly like The Nimble Nephew. And of course, I always enjoy seeing the Sampson episodes, cut or uncut.

Meanwhile, since The Singing Skirt is one of the books available to read online on that site I found (http://www.e-reading.me/bookbyauthor.php?author=21005), I shall probably read through at least some of it sometime.

The Startled Stallion

It’s been so long since I’ve seen the uncut version of The Startled Stallion, as I’m pretty sure I did once, that I can’t fully remember what’s missing from the television version. But one thing present in both versions that I always love seeing is the awesomeness of Lieutenant Tragg.

Even before he realizes that the case is murder and not death by frightened horse, he doesn’t like the idea of putting down a beautiful animal like this horse. Probably some of that is recognizing how valuable the horse is, but he just comes across as someone who appreciates animals in general and doesn’t like to see them killed unless absolutely necessary.

Also present in this episode is another element that occurred several times around season 3, that of Tragg teaching Sergeant Brice some of the clues he looks for in an investigation. The bit with determining it had to be murder because the wheelchair-bound man could not have locked himself in the barn is great. I love any scenes showing that the police are not idiots. Of course, the wrong person gets arrested, as always, but there is definite evidence against her.

I also like how Hamilton seems to be acknowledging the problem of the wrong people getting arrested when he tells Perry, “You know what we go through before we indict someone.” It doesn’t just happen at random; they are making an effort to get the right person arrested. The only reason it doesn’t work is because of the formula. And I do have to give points to the books for apparently not falling back on said formula all the time. I just don’t like that the reason they don’t is because Perry’s clients sometimes (or often) are guilty. As I said, I rather romanticize the character due to his television counterpart!

Another fun thing about The Startled Stallion episode is Elliott Reid playing the defendant’s brother. I’ve liked him for years because of his roles in Disney movies, so I was happy to see him pop up on Perry.

Of the episodes about horses, I think I like this one a lot more than the season 6 episode The Fickle Filly. I find it so sad in the latter episode when the horse goes lame. It’s sad for the horse and also for the people, since they thought they had a great racehorse. Of course, there is the bit in the epilogue where they plan to breed the horse, so it’s nice that all of their plans don’t have to just go down the drain.

What’s strange about the syndication copy of The Startled Stallion, however, is that I honestly can’t remember if I’ve ever seen the first scene on television before, the part that shows the actual mock wedding and reveals in their car that the secretary didn’t really marry the old man. It seems like all the other times I’ve seen the episode on television, it’s opened with the racing horses. That is very weird if there really is a syndication episode floating around without that key opening scene, although I definitely wouldn’t put it past networks to clip it out for commercial time.

Back to Sergeant Brice, it’s fun seeing him becoming an important fixture on Perry. By season 3, he’s there almost all the time when it’s an in-town episode. According to IMDB, Lee Miller was playing Sergeant Brice, uncredited as the character, in several season 1 episodes. I don’t recall seeing him, but the broadcast prints of season 1 episodes are bad, so I should check my DVDs to see if I see him anywhere.

What I do know is that once or twice in season 2, they had a character called Sergeant Brice who was not played by Lee Miller. Even if Lee’s character in season 1 is thought to be Brice, I am quite sure he is never actually addressed as such until late in season 2, when they decided Tragg should have a steady partner instead of different ones most of the time. And instead of keeping the actor who was originally playing a Sergeant Brice character, they brought in Lee, which was a stroke of genius.

Lee is perfect as the quiet Sergeant Brice, silently observing everything and speaking when necessary. He interacts with Tragg, Perry, Hamilton, suspects and witnesses, Andy, Steve, and even Della. Those who have only seen syndication versions of the episodes won’t have seen it, but one of the good things about The 12^th Wildcat is the bit where Brice wanders in and greets Della, jokingly asking if Perry and Paul are giving her a bad time. She responds by touching his arm and saying if they do, he’s her policeman. Aww. Brice has been shown to be friendly to Perry and company on several occasions, and indicates in The Careless Kitten and The Impetuous Imp that he has a lot less problems with them poking around investigating than his superiors do, but that brief and telling interaction with Della says that he must interact with them (and her) a lot more than we ever see onscreen. I still want to write a story with him and Della sometime.

Perhaps they can have some interaction if I write a Halloween story this year. I was thinking that if I did, it would be a great time to write that masquerade-themed adventure I always wanted the show to have. It will kind of be The Dodging Domino as the title made me think that episode should have been. I was thinking of setting it around season six or seven, but I might just set it after season 9 instead, as per most of my stories.