Peter Boyle, who died yesterday at 71, came to fame in 1970s films, playing a series of emotional and physical psychopaths, plus one actual monster, the tap-dancing, zipper-necked concoction in “Young Frankenstein.” Between 1996 and 2005, he was beamed into living rooms across America as the title character’s misanthropic father in the sitcom “Everybody Loves Raymond.”

Although he would spend the majority of his career as a character actor, capitalizing on his large frame, bulgy eyes, and balding pate, Boyle made his first impression as the title character in “Joe” (1970), a bigot whose memorable anti-hippie tirade is followed up by a murderous rampage. The role bedeviled him for a time, he said, and he was shocked to find film audiences who cheered the maniac on. But his part in the otherwise modest, independent production brought him plenty of offers, and Boyle managed to be cast in a number of edgy roles without having to resort to killing hippies, at least not for several years.

He played the mobster Joey Gallo in “Crazy Joe” (1974) and a nihilistic cabby named Wizard in “Taxi Driver” (1976). But there were also roles like Robert Redford’s campaign manager in “The Candidate” (1972) and a standup comedian in “Slither” (1973). With his breakout performance in “Young Frankenstein” (1974), Boyle established himself as a dual threat — comedy or psychosis — and his bipolar career would continue through the 1980s and 1990s. His two sides finally merged in the role of Frank Barone on NBC’s “Everybody Loves Raymond.”

Along the way, Boyle moved away from what he referred to as his 1970s “culture period” and took more and more television roles. He was nominated for a dozen Emmys, beginning with his portrayal of Joe McCarthy in “Tailgunner Joe” (1977). He finally won an Emmy in 1996 for a creepy guest turn on “The X Files.”

Boyle grew up in a devout Catholic family in Philadelphia, where his father was a commercial artist and sometime children’s television personality. Boyle attended La Salle University and spent three years as a member of the Christian Brothers religious order. His love of beatnik poetry, jazz, and “the flesh” won out over piety, but issues of spirituality nagged at him for years.”I felt like I had failed God when I quit being a monk,” Boyle told Entertainment Weekly in 2001. In other interviews, he proclaimed the Gospel according to Shrinks.

Boyle moved to New York and studied acting with Uta Hagen. His early roles were onstage, and in 1968, he was hired for a traveling production of Neil Simon’s “The Odd Couple” that spent nearly a year in Chicago. There, Boyle took part in demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention and appeared in “Medium Cool,” the quasi-fictional documentary that used the convention as a backdrop. Unhappy with his notoriety from “Joe,” Boyle turned down the opportunity to portray Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle in “The French Connection” (1971). “I got bad advice,” he said in the Entertainment Weekly interview. “Look, Gene Hackman was brilliant, so what can you say?”

In addition to being a showcase for his comedy skills, “Young Frankenstein” was a turning point for Boyle. During the shooting for the film, he met Loraine Alterman, a reporter for Rolling Stone who became his wife. Ms. Alterman always denied the story that he had asked her for a first date while in costume. John Lennon, a close friend of Boyle’s, served as best man at their 1977 wedding.

While Boyle’s burgeoning career was set in Hollywood — he appeared in more than 50 films and made dozens of TV appearances — his home was in New York, and he was a regular at Elaine’s and other showbiz haunts. But if he was a jovial presence in the city, his reputation in California still seemed to retain a tinge of “Joe.” When he auditioned for “Raymond,” the show’s creator, Phil Rosenthal, said, “He came in all hot and angry, and I hired him because I was afraid of him.”

Peter Lawrence Boyle

Born October 18, 1935, in Philadelphia; died November 12 at New York-Presbyterian Hospital of the effects of multiple myeloma and heart disease; survived by his wife, Loraine Alterman, and two daughters, Lucy and Amy.