This television show, a black and white gem of the late fifties starring Raymond Burr, was a brilliant tour-de-force in the detective-noir genre of the mid-twentieth century. The show predates color television by about five years, and it was filmed in a glorious black and white and a million shades of gray, not just fifty. The plots are the same plots that crowd television today: jealousy, greed, evil, passion, sloth, ire, hate, and shame. The human creature is capable of almost anything driven by poor thinking, loose morals, and confused ethics. Into the middle of the chaos strides Perry Mason, ready to defend the innocent, pursue the guilty, and bring justice to all. The ever enigmatic Raymond Burr played Mason with a sly smile on his lips, but his eyes never gave away what he was thinking. Burr’s Mason was utterly and completely cerebral, always considering all of the possibilities while putting the pieces together and solving the crime. Sorting out who was lying from who was telling the truth was Mason’s strength, supported by the ever loyal Della Street and his energetic side-kick and investigator, Paul Drake. The conventions of the show–crime, innocent suspect, trial, confessing criminal, happy ending–were well-known to everyone. The show rarely varied from its well-established formula. Even so, the show was comforting because it was about establishing justice, resolving a mystery, and returning everything back to normal: the killer is caught and incarcerated, the innocent go free, and the ethical and moral social structure has been re-established, much to the relief of everyone. The weekly mystery always presented a world undone, tipped over, out of sorts. The police and other authorities always seemed, however, to get it wrong, and it was Mason’s job to set things right. In the Cold War world of the fifties, moral ambiguity was beginning to flower, and the moral certainty of the world which had been so clear right after World War II was beginning to wane. All of the problems which would explode in the sixties with drug use, the sexual revolution, civil rights, women’s liberation, and the Vietnam War, all existed in nascent form in the fifties and are reflected in the problems that all of the characters face. Mason, however, is a monolithic figure who never becomes very emotional or excited. We never get to see him outside of his personae as lawyer, never see him date or kick his shoes off at home. His black suit and white shirt are his armor and chain mail, and one would never see him out of that costume. Some questions, such as his true relationship to Della Street, are never meant to be answered–they add to the mystique. Larger than life, Mason was a big man with an imposing presence who could go toe-to-toe with any prosecutor, any law enforcement official, any lying witness, any stern judge, and come out on top. The show is still better than 99% of the crap that is on television today. He knew what was right and wrong, and he didn’t have to worry about moral relativism. If only things were that simple today.