Jump to: navigation, search

Salt Lake Tribune (14/Sep/1993) - He was great as villains and Mason, but it's the smiling Burr I'll miss

Details

Article

He was great as villains and Mason, but it's the smiling Burr I'll miss

One of Hollywood's grandest villains died Sunday night.

He will always be remembered for his portrayals of Perry Mason, but he had no equal on the screen when he played the heavy.

His death at 76 is particularly saddening to me, because Raymond Burr was that rare individual in show business who kept in touch with writers as a matter of course. It was good for him; it was great for us.

He kept a meticulous record through his publicist of those to whom he granted interviews, noting what was asked, what was discussed and how it was written when published. He did not appreciate being misquoted.

And although it didn't happen so often as to become routine, he would telephone writers and columnists without warning — to keep in touch, he said, and find out how you were doing. That's what made him so popular with newspaper working stiffs. He made us feel important.

"Hello, this is Ray . . . Ray Burr, how are you?"

It's difficult to describe the shock of getting a call like that out of the blue, but having received one or two, it was impossible not to think in the warmest terms of Raymond Burr whenever his name was mentioned.

And while he will always be Perry Mason to the world, I can't forget the terror he evoked in Rear Window after Alfred Hitchcock had convinced us that he was a wife-murderer who had dismembered the body and caught Jimmy Stewart watching him . . . whew! That was our good friend Raymond, a world apart from Perry.

And in A Cry in The Night he stalked Natalie Wood. Burr fairly dripped menace and loved every delicious moment of it.

Remember the scenes in A Place in the Sun, when he prosecuted Montgomery Clift for killing Shelley Winters?

And he played in the first Godzilla. All the footage was shot separately in just one day and inserted for U.S. audiences. He wanted a percentage of the film and was turned down. However, he earned more for that one day's work than anyone else ever received.

But we keep coming back to Perry Mason.

In an interview at the University Park Hotel five years ago, he talked about Erle Stanley Gardner, creator of the Mason character, who personally selected Burr for the role, picked Barbara Hale to play Della Street and William Talman for the Hamilton Burger role.

But Gardner's hold on the series was blamed by Burr for not being able to develop the human side of the famous criminal lawyer.

"After nine years and 271 episodes of the old series on CBS, what does anyone know about Mason?" Burr argued. "Or Della Street? All those episodes, and we don't know where she lived, whether she liked sports or whether she could even cook."

Gardner had absolute control of the series and would permit no departure whatever from the winning formula.

"He and I had some spirited discussions on the subject," Burr lamented, "but it didn't do any good."

In later years, Burr's health became troublesome. He had always struggled with being overweight. In 1988, when I last saw him (he called from time to time later), he was 70, and was well over 250 pounds for his 6-foot frame.

The most noticeable difference from his television persona, though, was that Raymond Burr smiled and he had dimples. No kidding. Perry Mason never smiled, or if he did it was a quick grimace and on to the next stern frown.

But Burr smiled, and it was a sight. Those huge soulful eyes and that deep resonant voice — it was not something to forget . . . ever.

There was the pain, however. In an early Western he had been caught in midstream on horseback when a logjam nailed him. The injuries were painful and lasting.

He was in a golf cart in the Bahamas some year later and took a turn too sharply. It overturned and hurt his leg so badly there was talk of amputation. That was the reason for Perry Mason on cane and crutches in the early feature-length television films.

Then in Toronto he tripped on a cable and wrenched his right knee and leg. That almost put him in a wheelchair for good.

I will miss Mister Burr. He was a man full of humor, full of life, he raised orchids, and he smiled.

Retrieved from ‘http://the.hitchcock.zone/w/index.php?title=Salt_Lake_Tribune_(14/Sep/1993)_-_He_was_great_as_villains_and_Mason,_but_it%27s_the_smiling_Burr_I%27ll_miss&oldid=181515’