An unsurpassed courtroom drama. It never fails–the strains of the “Park Avenue Beat” stir you to your very soul; the handsome, intense face of Raymond Burr remains the same, even though the brief scene in the courtroom accompanying the credits changes over the years; and then there’s always the mood-setting jazz accompanying the opening drama: conflict among friends, relatives, accomplices in crime, all centered around some vicious person you just know is going to die soon; and, finally, a view of Perry Mason’s building, his door, and then the man himself. Lawyer, detective, sage, friend–Mason will be all these things; but what matters, these days, is a view of the world in which women really look like women, in which America is secure in its fortunes and has no doubt as to right and wrong, decent and indecent, just and unjust, and in which one can enjoy the sometimes brilliant exchanges between Mason and Berger, both eloquent, adversaries, true, but full of respect for one another; and, of course, the eventual restoration of order to the world, as the true culprit, pinched by Mason’s relentless logic, or provoked by some intolerable break in the moral order, confesses–confesses tearfully or defiantly. And best of all? A full 50 minutes of drama without a dizzy camera, incomprehensible dialogue, or anything that is less than fully and soulfully human.