Many character actors might bristle at the idea of being branded a character actor. Because, after all, who wants to be branded as a type? If in your last ten movies you played that type, are you destined to play that type again and again? On the other hand, if you’re good enough, it means steady work.
Edward Andrews was spot-on perfect in mid-20th century movies and television as a character actor who got tons of steady work because he perfectly hit a certain character role target. In his horn-rimmed glasses, Andrews embodied the imperious, officious, smug, and stuffy role better than any other actor working at that time. So perfectly did he play the part that I have a hard time believing that there was a real person behind the roles.
In the early years of his career, Andrews was rarely, if ever, cast in a purely sympathetic, heart-warming role. He was always a mayor, military brass, banker, doctor, school principal, or religious leader. Only in the last few years of his career did he receive more benign roles.
In 1964’s Send Me No Flowers, with Rock Hudson and Doris Day, Andrews delivered one of his more neutral and least unsympathetic characters as Hudson’s doctor, lacing the role with humor and only a few traces of the characteristic Andrews smugness.
Andrews as the sinister authority figure Carling from The Twilight Zone’s “Third From the Sun,” dancing on the fine edge between practiced courtesy and quiet menace:
Andrews’ most quietly disturbing man-next-door role, though, was as Oliver Pope in The Twilight Zone’s “You Drive.” Is Oliver Pope evil for evading the law after running over and killing a young boy? Maybe. What makes Andrews’ role so mesmerizing it that he could be one of us.
