'Mad Men': Inside Summer TV's No. 1 Hidden Gem

True, it's been only two weeks since production resumed, so there's still plenty of time for the team to get jaded. But for now, the gratitude feels genuine — especially since, with the exception of industry vet Slattery (who was absent at the end of last season to finish up a guest-starring turn as Gabrielle's husband on Desperate Housewives), none of the main players had ever experienced breakout success before Mad Men. ''This is my fourth series and I've never had a second season,'' says Hendricks (Kevin Hill, The Court). ''This is so exciting. I'm on the crème de la crème of television shows and I get to be this fabulous character another season.'' No one, of course, has benefited more than Hamm, who, in addition to winning a Golden Globe, shot the big-budget Keanu Reeves flick The Day the Earth Stood Still during the hiatus, and now boasts that foolproof measure of Hollywood power: ''My phone calls tend to get returned a lot quicker,'' he says with a smile. In person, the St. Louis native exudes the confidence of his Mad Men alter ego, but with none of the swaggering aloofness. He even tries to downplay his debonair image, pointing out Draper's high-waisted trousers. ''Miles of zippers!'' he says. ''My pants come up higher than they have since I was 9.''

After lunch, the air on the Sterling Cooper set is permeated with the marijuana-like scent of the herbal cigarettes the actors smoke in lieu of real tobacco. It's almost the end of the day, but there's still one last scene to shoot. Duck Phillips (Mark Moses), the new head of account services who beat Pete out of a promotion last season, has reached out to the young exec by offering him, as Weiner cryptically puts it, ''something that turns out to be bad for Don. Pete is not comfortable with it.'' Looking perturbed, Pete goes to Don's office for advice. ''It's not a good time, Campbell!'' Don growls. Poor Pete. Rejected again.

Off camera, Weiner leans in and whispers an explanation: ''It's about fatherhood. People don't get what they want always in life. And so they search for something to replace it — a surrogate.'' Mad Men itself has acted as a surrogate of sorts for Sopranos fans still experiencing withdrawal. Can the stylish '60s drama last as long as its mafioso cousin? ''Ideally, what you want on these shows is five years,'' says Weiner. ''I was on The Sopranos as it was dragged out for more time. What David [Chase] managed to do was sense the moment at which the machinery was worn out. We finished before that happened.'' But the Madison Avenue boom carried on well into the 1970s and '80s, so who knows how many seasons Mad Men could last — right, Matt? ''Wouldn't you be interested in seeing the show become something else?'' he wonders. Like, for instance, finally seeing Don trade in his clean-shaven, slicked-back look for some muttonchops and a perm? Weiner shrugs. ''For all I know, Don might be that guy who has the same hairstyle until he dies.'' We'll drink to that.