It was 1980 and I had recently concluded a representation of legendary filmmaker Dino De Laurentiis. The telephone rang in my K Street office in Washington, D.C.

It was De Laurentiis calling from London. “Richard, I'm shooting a picture in London and need your help right away,” he said in his heavily Italian accented English. “Uh, oh,” I thought. “What do I know about British criminal law?”

But he didn't need a lawyer. “I'm shooting a picture—”Flash Gordon“—and I need somebody to play a TV reporter to do a stand-up in front of the White House,” De Laurentiis said. “Can you do this for me? Just a few lines, easy. I can have a crew there tomorrow night. Wear a suit, like you were on TV. Can you help me out?”