STRICTLY ON BACKGROUND, PT. 26: "MADAM SECRETARY"

Usually, I find myself in one of the boroughs when working. Once in a while I get lucky, and get to walk nearby, as was the case with Madam Secretary last summer. Not only did I enjoy a delightful 25-minute stroll on the Upper East Side on a sunny July morning, it was the quickest trip to Warsaw, Poland I would ever experience.

OK, so maybe it wasn't really Warsaw. But East 91st off Central Park was good enough -- and no jet lag, either.

The James A. Burden House -- house, hell, it's a mansion, baby -- would be standing in for a Polish government building. Perhaps the presidential residence or the US embassy, I dunno. I'm an extra, not a federal worker. And this day, I was going to be a member of the press, a role I've played so often that I ought to be carrying credentials. 

The entryway of the Burden House. It's all uphill
from there.

Some background: despite its name, the James A. Burden House was built in 1905 by William D. Sloane as a wedding gift for his daughter Adele and her husband James A. Burden II. 

In other words, the name of the guy who marries into the family is slapped on the house he didn't have anything to do with. And it was a wedding gift! I hope my kid's taste is a little more humble when she gets married.

The Burden House was purchased by the Convent of the Sacred Heart (located next door) in 1940, and is now used as -- get this -- its lower school. What the hell does its higher school look like?

I'm pretty sure this was where we filmed the scene.
Once you've seen one grand ballroom,
you've seen them all.

The Convent's basement served as our holding area until it was time to go to set. As I walked up the mansion's winding staircase and through its ornate halls, I tried to get an idea of what it must have been like to live there over a century ago. All I could think was, Man, they must have gone through a carton of Turtle Wax a week!

We were ushered into one of the rooms and took a seat. I always enjoy playing a reporter, because I get to wear a nice blazer (or suit) and tie. I find that I carry myself differently when dressed that way, rather than my usual doofus self. 

The scene featured the M.S. with the President of Poland. No, not the real one; the SAG member. They're holding a press conference to announce the finalization of a military deal to strengthen our friendship. The way I strengthen friendships is with a cold six-pack.

I was seen in three different shots. In each one, I'm holding one of those pocket-sized cassette recorders you occasionally see reporters hold in the Senate hallways during the press scrums. (Press scrum -- see, I'm already using the lingo!) 

In the first shot, I'm on the left side of the screen, filmed from behind, allowing my head to resemble the aftermath of a forest fire.

The second shot is more flattering. Right side, looking like the noble protector-of-the-people journalist that I am  pretend to be. 

Check out that profile! As Curly Howard said in Movie Maniacs, "Look at me -- ain't I a regular Barrymore?" And I'm not talking Lionel, Ethel or Drew.

The third was the money shot, allowing me to act -- that is, move my head one way to another when another reporter asks an impertinent question. I had my own impertinent question: why is that CBS eye always plastered over me?


From call time to wrap was a little over five-and-a-half hours, although the scene itself didn't take more than 90 minutes to shoot. I haven't returned to the James A. Burden House since. But if you ever want to rent the place after school hours, give me a ring. I'd like to slide down the spiral railing while I still have it in me to do so.

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Ninety minutes of work packed down to 44 seconds: