By ANNIE AQUILINA
New York Post
I left behind for a day my real-life role as The Post's administrative editor and ventured back to our former newsroom on South Street in lower Manhattan, where a production company was shooting "Deadline," starring Oliver Platt and Bebe Neuwirth.
The plot centers on Platt, a three-times-divorced columnist and black sheep of a WASP family, at The New York Ledger, a fictional Big Apple tabloid.
I was cast as secretary to the top editor, played by Neuwirth. Talk about returning to my roots!
I appeared in a scene that director Michael Ritchie shot in the very office I occupied years ago, doing the job I did when I started out in journalism 25 years ago.
In fact, the set was so authentic, I couldn't help but have flashbacks. When you're watching television, you don't realize the incredible attention paid to minute detail. But when I walked onto the "Deadline" set, I felt like I was walking into The Post's old newsroom.
I couldn't believe how accurately they re-created the city room, down to half-empty coffee cups, carelessly tossed papers and family photos taped around the desks.
The pictures in my set office were even plucked from the walls of my actual office at our new Rockefeller Center headquarters -- under Ritchie's orders.
In my scene, I waved actor Platt, playing the idealistic columnist, into Neuwirth's office.
And that was it. My 15 seconds of celluloid fame!
Ritchie was kind enough to let me spend the afternoon on the set, and I watched in fascination as he ran the production with the expertise of a seasoned professional.
During each scene, Ritchie and writers Dick Wolf and Robert Palm watch the action on multiple TV monitors, each providing different perspectives.
On set, I learned that a little bit of TV magic can give an aura of drama to a scene that looks ordinary to the naked eye.
Frankly, standing on the sidelines, I wasn't too impressed watching the crew film Neuwirth in her office editing a paper the old-fashioned way (using a pen). I wondered: What was so interesting?
But when Palm showed me the scene on a monitor, the camera zoomed in tightly, the colors popped, the lighting cast a dramatic glow on Neuwirth, and the Manhattan Bridge was framed elegantly in her office window.
And these TV guys aren't just artists -- they're firemen and handymen, too.
At one point, a hot set light positioned too close to a fire sprinkler set off a torrent of water all over the set, soaking photos, mocked-up newspapers and other props.
Instead of having a meltdown, the entire crew snapped into action. "Grab those props before they drown!" yelled the production designer.
Struck by inspiration, the head writer suggested writing the mini-flood into a future episode, and a photographer ran in and started snapping away, just in case.
Ten minutes later, they managed to shut off the sprinklers -- but not before part of the set was flooded.
The production assistants assessed the damage, and sent crew members scurrying out on a quick shopping spree for some replacement props, while Ritchie moved to a different area in his make-believe newsroom.
Within an hour, it was, "OK. Cameras rolling!"
And at the end of the day, I left with a new respect for the great skills of a TV production team, and a nagging desire to chuck my career and seek fame and fortune.
It could happen: They tell me if the pilot progresses to prime time, I may wind up being a secretary at a major New York City tabloid all over again.