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All superheros must have an origin story. Perry Mason -- who never lost a case and never had a guilty client -- is the courtroom equivalent of Superman. Since Perry did not come to earth when the planet Krypton exploded and he was not bitten by a radioactive spider as a teenager, his story is going to be a little different.

Erle Stanley Gardner, the writer of the original Mason books, never came up with a backstory for Perry. From the first novel, his clients were innocent, his tactics edgy, his victories complete and total. While that leaves a clear pathway for an intrepid filmmaker to come up with any past he likes, any author has to figure out how to make Perry Perry.

In this opener, Mason is a low rent PI who sabotages himself by being greedy in an unsavory case. We see him in a courtroom sequence (where he testifies) in which it is clear he has a good sense of courtroom tactics. Mostly, though, we see him drink, conduct a sleazy investigation, fail to shave, and show his tattoo to his special friend while having painful sex. We are a long way from Raymond Burr.

Nonetheless, the atmosphere isn't out of line from the first few volumes of the Mason books. Gardner wrote for the leading private eye pulp of his day, The Black Mask -- the same place where Dashiell Hammett created Sam Spade -- and his books depict a police force and DA department where the rules are regularly ignored so that defendants can be railroaded. Sgt. Holcomb -- the awful policeman who appears in this episode -- was the lead police character in the Mason books of the 30s.

Mason in the books has a fierce sense of social justice. ESG himself created something called the Court of Last Resort, which was a small scale version of the Innocence Project If there is a key to Mason's character -- it is this sense that the system left to itself will railroad people, and it's his job to stop that from happening. Our character is not there yet. I am hoping we will see that happen as we move forward.

Dashing explorer Rod LaRoque, married to dashing aviatrix Leni Riefenstahl, gets stuck on an iceberg floating out to sea. Leni crashes her plane on that same iceberg, so she gets stuck too. Will the radio message "SOS ICEBERG" bring anyone to save them, or will they die of arctic cold and Luke-warm plot?

Well, this one is odd, and not worth much of an effort, despite some breathtaking visuals. The plot, involving some reckless and stupid arctic adventurers, a series of poor decisions, and a wanton disregard for wearing gloves in cold weather, makes it impossible to care much about the fix these dingbats are in. And the last scene, involving a five mile hike/swim to an Eskimo village, is too absurd to deal with without giggling. If I am going to suspend my disbelief willingly, I need something to hold onto, and could not find it here.

This is the only movie you'll find where Leni Riefenstahl speaks English. She doesn't say much, and her acting isn't too embarrassing. One imagines an alternate history where she makes a big splash (among other things, she is a looker), and stays in the US, and doesn't make Triumph of the Will. Problem is, this movie was never fated to make anyone a star. The only person who makes any attempt at stealing the film is Gibson Gowland (from Greed), whose hirsute villainy is more repellent than attractive.

Wendell Corey, the son of a forcibly retired politician, is appointed as a caretaker Senator. Is he fit to do battle in THE ARENA that is the US Senate, with the help of veteran aide Chester Morris?

Chester Morris is one of those actors whose reputation might be helped if there weren't a Turner Classic Movies. This is because, in the 40s, Mr. Morris often starred as the obnoxious Boston Blackie, who, when not solving his crimes in black-face (yes, really), smirked his way through a lot of stupid comic mysteries. And those are the movies TCM keeps playing.

To this role, Morris brings what is often visible in his 30s movies, an always present surface cockiness, tempered by experience. Here, he has to attempt to play the worldly counselor to a daddy's boy senator, who might be a good man, if he can just escape his father's influence. He nails the part (which is written beautifully) and helps turn a somewhat preachy script into something more interesting. Wendell Corey gives an average performance, and others are just fine too.

Of course, the show ends with a moral crisis, solved happily. In the politics of 2016, rest assured the morally pleasing answer Mr. Serling gives us would not have been considered by any politician actually thinking of his future. For that reason, the ending may seem too pat to modern audiences. Not sure that is a judgment a 1956 viewer would have made.