Two hundred episodes is more than a television milestone; it’s a testament to endurance, a narrative tapestry woven from countless hours, sweat, and creative vision. For Chicago P.D., hitting its 200th episode wasn’t just a number; it was a celebration of a show that consistently dives into the gritty underbelly of law enforcement, leaving its characters—and its audience—with indelible marks. Behind the scenes, particularly for actors like Marina Squerciati, the physical and emotional commitment required to bring the world of Intelligence to life often mirrored the very struggles of their on-screen counterparts.
The set of Chicago P.D., especially during a landmark episode, is an orchestra of moving parts. Directors, cinematographers, grips, sound engineers, makeup artists, and a sprawling crew work in unison, each a crucial note in the symphony of production. While the cameras capture the polished final product, the unseen hours are filled with meticulous planning, rapid problem-solving, and the tireless pursuit of authenticity. For the 200th episode, this hum of focused energy was amplified by a palpable sense of accomplishment, a quiet pride in a job consistently well done, and a collective understanding of the stories they’ve told – and the stories yet to unfold. It’s in these unseen moments, the camaraderie between takes, the shared understanding of a difficult scene, that the true magic of television, and the deep roots of a long-running show, truly lie.
Among the show’s most consistently challenged characters is Kim Burgess, brought to life with fierce vulnerability by Marina Squerciati. Her journey often takes her to the most unforgiving corners of Chicago, both literal and metaphorical. A prime example is her experiences in the city’s labyrinthine subway tunnels. Squerciati has spoken about these subterranean shoots, describing the stygian gloom, the damp chill seeping into bones, and the cacophony of distant trains that add an unnerving layer of realism. These aren’t pristine soundstages; they are active, grime-covered tunnels, echoing with history and neglect. For an actor, braving this grim reality means contending with the physical discomfort—the cold, the dirt, the challenging acoustics—while simultaneously delivering emotionally charged performances. It’s a testament to her dedication that these physically taxing environments never overshadow the psychological depth she brings to Burgess, making the character’s relentless journey through trauma and resilience feel utterly authentic. The claustrophobia, the isolation, the lurking danger inherent in those tunnels become an extension of Burgess’s own internal struggles, making every breathless chase and tense standoff resonate with palpable dread.
While the tunnels offer one brand of visceral challenge, Chicago P.D. has also frequently plunged Burgess into the treacherous beauty of pool scenes. These are not serene moments of relaxation; rather, they are often aquatic ballets of peril, scenes of rescue, struggle, or near-drowning that symbolize a character pushed to their absolute limit. Squerciati’s commitment to these moments is unwavering. Filming in water introduces its own set of complications: the weight of wet clothes, the difficulty of breathing and delivering lines, the complex choreography of stunts, and the sheer physical toll of repeated takes in a cold, unforgiving medium. Whether it’s the shimmering surface reflecting the terror in her eyes or the murky depths threatening to swallow her whole, these pool scenes are powerful visual metaphors. They represent a cleansing, a rebirth, or a profound moment of vulnerability and fight. For Burgess, time and again, water has been a crucible—a place where her fragility and fierce will are tested, often leaving her, and the audience, breathless.
Ultimately, these behind-the-scenes struggles and unique filming environments are not just production challenges; they are critical ingredients in elevating the show’s emotional stakes. The authenticity derived from Squerciati’s willingness to physically embody Burgess’s trials in real tunnels and actual water translates directly into the raw, unfiltered humanity that defines Chicago P.D. Viewers aren’t just watching a procedural; they are witnessing characters grapple with the profound psychological scars of their job. The emotional stakes are the beating heart of the show: the trauma Burgess carries, the family dynamic of the Intelligence Unit, the moral compromises, and the ever-present threat to life and limb. When Squerciati shivers in a cold tunnel or struggles for air underwater, that discomfort isn’t merely an acting choice; it’s a visceral connection forged with the audience, making Burgess’s pain, fear, and ultimate resilience utterly believable and deeply moving.
The journey to 200 episodes of Chicago P.D. is a saga of dedication, both in front of and behind the camera. It’s a narrative not just about catching criminals, but about the profound human cost of doing so. From the collective spirit of the milestone episode to Marina Squerciati’s brave forays into literal and metaphorical depths within subway tunnels and pool scenes, every challenge serves to heighten the emotional stakes, cementing Chicago P.D. as more than just a crime drama, but a powerful exploration of the human spirit under immense pressure.
