I Don’t Want to Be Stereotyped

Let’s face it. If a TV audience likes a character, they want to see the actor playing that character do it until they get tired of it—if they ever do. Some actors have a problem with this, even though they know it’s pretty much inevitable. But instead of accept it, they complain.

One such actor was Ray Walston.

Before the first month of My Favorite Martian was over, he was already griping about stereotyping. And he kept complaining to reporters who would listen. I’ve found another newspaper story from 1964 where he did it. And one from 1978. And another from 1996. That’s even though he had just won an Emmy for his fine work on Picket Fences, which wasn’t even close to the crash-landed Martian of 30-plus years earlier.

Around the start of 1964, it seems every wire service columnist talked to him—Bob Thomas of the AP, Vernon Scott of UPI, Dick Kleiner of NEA, Charles Witbeck of King Features.

We won’t reprint those. Instead we’ll pass along a couple of different syndicated pieces. The first one appeared in papers beginning October 6, 1963.

Ray Walston Has to Live With Holes in His Head
By FRANK LANGLEY
NEW YORK—There aren't many people who need a hole in the head. Ray Walston is one of them. In fact, Ray has two holes in his head and they have him a bit worried.
As the title star of "My Favorite Martian," he wears a pair of antennae that periodically rise from his scalp in periscope fashion, which Ray explained "is a basic part of any Martian's make-up.
"But they pose a big problem for me," he continued in earnest. "We all know of many actors who have taken long-run roles, or who have become associated with an individual character, and haven't been able to divorce themselves from that image.
"A producer hears the actor's name and says, "Sorry, but I'm not looking for an Abe Lincoln today, or 'I'm looking for a doctor, not a cowboy,' or 'Sure you can kill, better than any actor I know, but can you kiss? I need a lover, a good kisser, not a killer.
"Being typed is the biggest fear of an actor. So imagine my problem if this show is a big success, and it looks like it will be. When I'm finished with it, producers will be saying, 'Ray Walston? Sure I know you, you're the guy with the holes in his head. Sorry, but I got no roles for a guy with holes in his head today.' "
Seeks to Improve
Although Walston spoke this thought earnestly, he did so with the devilish personality so well remembered from "Damn Yankees" and "South Pacific."
Actually, there are few circumstances in Walston's professional career that give him cause for serious fear. Perhaps the biggest is the fear that his busy career keeps him from improving his art.
As one of a group of Hollywood residents who remain devoted to the legitimate theater and stage crafts, Ray formed the "Theater East," made up of several actresses and actors who get together weekly to perform for each other. They criticize each other and help each other either to maintain a pitch or advance a step or two in the never-ending search for additional skills.
To the average movie-goer or TV viewer, the name of Ray Walston implies broad comedy. Few people know he got his start in a production of "Hamlet" with Maurice Evans and also appeared in a Broadway production of "Richard III."
His devotion to his craft, however, is not what some people would call a devotion to "serious theater" but rather a seriousness towards the theater and his part in it.
A less professional aspect would certainly have typed him a long time ago. On the contrary, he bounces from role to role, from "The Apartment" to "Convicts Four" to "Wives and Lovers" to "My Favorite Martian."
"Some of my friends," he admitted, "thought I was getting into a rut when I accepted the Martian. But I don't believe that. Although it means playing the same role week in and out, the potential for a variety of situations is so great that if offers not only an interesting challenge but an opportunity to try new techniques, new tricks, and maybe learn a thing or two."
If Ray Walston is going to learn a thing or two, I for one would certainly like to know what they will be. Any man who can learn to live with a pair of holes in the head, and like it, has graduated, in my book.

Evidently a number of TV viewers couldn’t keep their “high-concept” shows straight. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by this syndicated piece from November 24, 1964, but I’ve read enough stories about fans running up to stars and not having any clue what they’re talking about. And I agree with Walston about the satiric angle.

‘Favorite Martian’ Ray Walston Mistaken For Star Of ‘Mr. Ed’
By DONALD FREEMAN
Copley New Service
HOLLYWOOD – RAY WALSTON, who fulfills the title role in My Favorite Martian, was saying that television popularity has its most curious offshoots.
"For instance, I stopped at a bar one night and one of the drinkers looked at me. There was a glimmer of recognition. Obviously he knew me from somewhere. Then he snapped his fingers. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘Aren't you Mister Ed?’
"And that," shrugged Mr. Walston, "is fame.”
Fame also is the people who approach Walston and, knowing his other-worldly prowess on the series, urge him to practice his Martian sorcery: "Read my mind. Make me disappear." Or the kids who spot Walston behind the wheel of his car and yell. "Hey, there goes the Martian. Blast off!" Or the ones who say: "Shoot up your antennas."
RAY WALSTON is an intense, worldly, congenial actor a very unactor-ish actor and he's delighted with the burgeoning success of My Favorite Martian. Still, he views the show with cool professional detachment.
"It's not just a kid's show, you know," he said. "Since most people have only one set, the parents tend to watch what the kids watch. And once the parents are exposed to our show, they like it. We want to run for five years and I suspect we will.”
Walston occasionally wonders if the show couldn't display more bite. "We don't have as much social commentary as I'd like," he said, puffing a cigar. "Consider my role. Here we have a super-intellect, 8,000 years ahead of the earth people. Well, he could make some interesting comments on our contemporary culture. Sometimes we pull it off.
"Remember the show where we spoofed bureaucracy? What better thing to fall on the ears of the young than to hear the truth, in amusing form, about the stupidity of bureaucrats."

Ray Walston died in 2001. If you look at the headlines for his newspaper obituaries, what do you think they mentioned?

Sorry, Ray. It wasn’t South Pacific.