"Double-track" is a phrase we borrow from motion-picture terminology.

In making a motion-picture film, the speech can be recorded on one track, the background music and sound effects, in juxtaposition, on another. They are run simultaneously and blended into a single unified track. This is mechanical double-track. The actor uses mental double-track.

Double-track is the reactor of acting. It controls the spoken dialogue. It constructs a solid, continuous line of concentration— developed from the actor's creative imagination—as a substructure to support the words he speaks.

Double-track contains the audible sound track of dialogue and the silent track of thought. Both motivate reaction. Double-track helps develop a fully rounded, natural characterization.

Some actors double-track instinctively. They do it to a greater or lesser degree—with technical awareness, or in hit-and-miss manner. Great performers double-track all the time—in every rehearsal—in every performance.

Reacting is as important to a scene as acting. Sometimes it is more important. The reaction of a person on the receiving end of a speech is as significant to a play (and its audience) as the speech itself.

Every actor must find out what goes into the art of reacting— then he must perfect the technique of reacting. The tool for this is—double-track. It is set in motion by the other actor's delivery— it is locked in place by listening.

Double-track is an important function in the training of an actor's mind. It recognizes the existence of two trains of thought going on at the same time (in real life) in juxtaposition to each other. It then incorporates this realistic process into the technique of acting.

Allow me to repeat: Double-track constructs a solid, continuous line of concentration, developed from the actor's creative imagination, as a substructure to support the words he speaks.

A line of concentration is the power line that transmits empathy between the actor and an audience. Without this there is no empathy. Without empathy, there is no "truth."

"Truth" is the result of the substructure upon which the dialogue rides. The substructure is the result of double-track.

When a director calls for "more reaction," many actors, especially newcomers, respond by mugging. This isn't what the director wants.

There has to be a reason for your reaction. If the thought is there, it will show through, in reaction. There is a natural responsive rhythm between action and reaction. Perfect timing takes place by following that rhythm.

When you double-track in a role, you're doing a natural thing. You are completing a rhythmic pattern and giving your senses the benefit of faultless timing. In both—the conscious objective of a role and the subconscious objective of its double-track—you obey the laws of timing.

You have become aware of two of the actor's great common denominators: TIMING and SUBSTITUTION. Think of them as forming the sides of a triangle—SUBSTITUTION on one side—TIMING on the other. At the apex of the triangle is DOUBLE-TRACK. It is the peak achievement that results from the substitution-timing support.

Everything that is in substitution is in double-track. Everything that is in timing is in double-track. It is the ULTIMATE COMMON DENOMINATOR that contains all other common denominators.

It elevates the craft to the art of acting.

At this peak, all parts are reduced to their lowest common denominator of real life—where they came from in the first place—and reassembled to create a whole person of consciously assumed reality.

The following scenes will show you how to double-track, when working with another actor. Listen to his lines for double-track clues.

In performance, double-track is a combination of the audible sound track and a silent track of connected mind pictures.

In training, it is more effective, at first, to double-track aloud— memorizing the exact words that come from your imagination. Then, silently think these words exactly as you memorized them. Later, this silent double-track will be translated from thought into instantaneous mind pictures.

When you translate this thought line into a series of connected mind pictures, your acting will begin to have the exciting, vital quality every actor strives for.

Your double-track image for the following scenes will be different from mine. Your interpretation of the characters' inner thoughts will not be the same as mine. The important thing is to keep the interpretation honest and within the framework of the characters, as you understand them.

The silent double-track must be invented—thought and rethought—just as conscientiously as the audible part of the scene is learned. Only then will it become an automatic habit-pattern that will be dependable under the tensions of actual performance —and help you keep up with the speed of modern show business.

In the following scenes, the parenthetical italicized lines are some of the possible double-track thoughts and reactions. When thought becomes a mind picture, it takes only a fraction of a second to flash its message. So it is possible for the character Ruth in the first scene to speculate about the man at the registration desk and size him up in the brief moment it takes her to say the single word "Yeah."

Exercise-Scene No. 1

The lobby of a shabby, third-rate hotel. TOM, a personable young man, enters. He looks around for a moment, then walks over to the registration desk and taps the bell. In a few seconds RUTH, a flashy young girl, enters from a door behind the desk, taking up her post at the desk.

RUTH

    (Who's this guy? He's not the kind who stays in a hotel like this.)
    Yeah?
    (Not bad lookin'. Probably up to somethin'.)
    What do you want?

TOM

    (Hm-m, quite a dish for a fleabag like this. I wonder if she's Ruth.)
    Fix me up with a room?

RUTH

     (Looks like he's got some dough.)
    What do you want, double or single?

TOM

    (Well, they told me to get acquainted with her, regardless of what it costs.)
    Maybe you'd better fix me up with a double—just in case.
    (Boy, that's a corny line. I must be slipping.)

RUTH

    (Fresh guy, but kinda cute.)
    Do you want a bath or not?

TOM

    (Here I go again!)
    Well, I've had one, but I could probably stand another.
    (That one really stinks, too. It must be the atmosphere around here.)

RUTH

    (Same price, kid, even if you are cute.)
    Number six. That will be two dollars.

TOM

    (What a dive! Anything for the job, though.)
    Two dollars? Here it is. Cheap at half the price, huh?

RUTH

    (Cheap, huh? Who does he think he is!)
    That's a good room.

TOM

    (I've got to get this in writing for the record.)
    Do you want me to sign anything?

RUTH

    (Gee, he's got me running around in circles.)
    Oh, yeah. You've got to register.

TOM

    (Here's a chance to find out if this is Ruth. Maybe I can trick her into telling me her name.)
    (as he writes he spells out the letters)
    T-o-m R-o-g-e-r-s. What's yours?

RUTH

    (taken by surprise, but not for long)
    Ruth Jac—
    (For the luva—Man! He's a fast one.)
    Doesn't make any difference what mine is.

TOM

   (Better watch my step.)
    You're right
    (Flattery can't hurt. Anyhow it's the truth.)
    With a shape like yours, it doesn't make any difference what your name is.

RUTH

    (He's sharp. Notices everything.)
    You know all the answers, don't you?

TOM

    (She's not sore. Think she really likes this cornball line.)
    Sure. I worked my way through college—selling a book— What Every Young Girl Should Know.

RUTH

    (/ can keep up with you, fella.)
    Yeah, I know—I wrote it.
    (Let's get back to business. I don't want him to think I'm too anxious.)
    Do you want to go to your room now?

TOM

    (Ugh, I can hardly face the thought.)
    Well, I want to, but I've got some business in town.
    (Little more of the old pitch now.)
    You have things all comfy for me when I come back, will you?

RUTH

    (picking up his bag) (This guy's pretty sure of himself.)
    I'll do that I'll raise the window and turn on the hot water for you.

TOM

    (She'll be a pushover—/ hope.)
    So long—Dreamboat.

Exercise-Scene No. 2

A lawyer's office. JOHNSON, a simple, honest, laboring man, is attempting to explain to an attorney how he was tricked into giving a criminal an alibi, making it possible for the real killer to go free and an innocent man to be convicted.

JOHNSON

    (Oh, Lord, how did I ever get into this! Will he believe me? He's got to believe me!)
    I was a transient—
    (Better give it to him straight.)
    and I had been drinking.
    (So help me, it's the truth.)
    I hadn't heard anything about the little girl.
    (What a fool I was.)
    I thought they were trying to find out about the fight
    (I'm afraid the law's not going to like this.)
    So I didn't tell the sheriff anything except what time it was when I was drinking with Red.
    (// / just hadn't let him trick me. If I'd just never met him.)
    After I found out about
    (The kid's dead, Dead!)
    the little girl being killed,
    (// I'd just been smarter!)
    I knew Red had tricked me into alibiing for him.
    (Just as well get it over with.)
    Well, I was drinkin' with him one day,
    (Yeh, it sure adds up—now.)
    and he seemed anxious for me to remember what time it was.
    (// he'll just believe me. It's the truth.)
    Seemed a little nervous,
    (I shouldn't a' got so loaded.)
    but he'd been drinkin' quite a lot of wine, and
    (// I'd been sober, I'd have caught on.)
    well—I didn't think much about it, at the time.
    (How could I know it was a thing like that?)
    I was kidding him about some scratches on his face.
    (Yes, he told me—and I believed it!)
    He told me
    (The liar! The dirty, killing liar!)
    he walked into a plum tree.

Exercise-Scene No. 3

The lavish drawing room of MRS. MAUDE ROYDEN, a wealthy society woman who has just returned from a club meeting. She enters the room and sees her daughter, JOYCE, who is thumbing through a magazine.

MAUDE

    (Mm-m—so there's my new Harper's Bazaar. I'll tell her now.)
    Oh, Joyce, I'm so glad you're home.
    (She'll love this. Simply love it!)
    We've discovered the most wonderful thing for the Junior League to do this year—while the fleet's in town.

JOYCE

    (I can just imagine!)
    Have you—joined the Junior League, Mother?

MAUDE

   (What a flippant sense of humor young people have today.)
    No, dear, but I'll tell you what to do and you can do it.

JOYCE

   (You always tell me what to do.)
    But, Mother, I'm not the entire Junior League. It might be that—

MAUDE

    (She should have more self confidence. After all, she's my daughter.)
    Nonsense, my dear. If you want the League to have a party for all those nice sailor boys, they'll just have it. That's all there is to it.

JOYCE

    (How grim!)
    Oh, do I want to have a party for the—er—Navy?

MAUDE

    (That's better. She just needs handling.)
    Of course you do—don't you?

JOYCE

    (Grim? This is positively revolting.)
    Well, up to the present moment I hadn't given it a great deal of thought—in fact, it comes as a complete surprise to me.
    (Mother's always so BUSY. Probably comes of having nothing to do.)
    I suppose you and the other members of your little sewing circle have been sitting around a tea table at the Fairmont all afternoon, planning ways and means of keeping your    
    respective daughters out of trouble.
    (THEY should talk!)
    You want to watch out that some of you older gals don't get into trouble yourselves, Mother dear.

MAUDE

   (Really! I wonder if she could have heard—of course not.)
    Joyce, sometimes I don't quite understand you. That's what comes of letting you lead your own life, as you call it. None of you— not one of your set—has any
    respect for her mother.

JOYCE

   (That's right—up on your soapbox.)
    Oh, Mother, now let's not start that again.
   (Might as well get this over.)
    Now tell me what is this great plan of yours to entertain the Navy?

MAUDE

    (There now, she's being more reasonable.)
    We believe it would be nice if the League gave a ball.

JOYCE

   (How dull)
    But someone is going to give a ball. There's always a ball. All the officers arrive in droves—and all the League members arrive in droves. Then they're shuffled
    together to the rhythm of a smooth band—and what happens?
    (Everybody knows what happens!)
    They all leave in pairs. They come in droves—and leave in couples. Hundreds of couples pouring out the front door, the side door, the back door—even out the
    windows of the Fairmont Hotel! And then what happens?
    (The pay-off.)
    Three debutantes are married off to three unsuspecting Naval officers, and the social season is considered a success!

MAUDE

   (What an attitude to take!)
    I don't know where you get your ideas—you always ridicule the social system your family has helped to build. In my day a young girl—

JOYCE

   (Not that again)
    Now, now, Mother—Don't start about when you were a young girl.
    (Rather have her go on about the ball.)
    Just tell me all about this officers' ball you cooked up this afternoon.

MAUDE

   (Oh, she doesn't understand that this will be a different sort of ball.)
    It isn't for the officers, Joyce. It's for all those nice sailor boys and their nice little girl friends. You can have it at the Civic Auditorium.

JOYCE

    (laughs)
    (Bell bottom trousers, here we come!) You mean—for the gobs?

MAUDE

   (Really, such language!)
    Gobs? I don't know what you mean by that word. I mean all those lovely boys with the little round white hats. They're all so far away from home—and so, of    
    course, they're homesick. Oh, Joyce, it will be a wonderful thing for you girls to do something for them.
    (That's it—appeal to her better self.)

JOYCE

   (I can see it now!)
    Oh, Mother, Mother! You're so delightfully naive. Those boys wouldn't take a deb to a dance at the Civic Auditorium.
    (She can't mean this.)
    How you've changed in the last few hours—wanting me to go out with a gob.

MAUDE

    (Mercy, what an idea.)
    Oh, no, darling. You girls won't go with them. They will bring their own girls. You will invite the officers of course.

JOYCE

    (Poor Mother. She just doesn't know.)
    I can see your social education has been sadly neglected, Mother. Have you ever watched a sailor make a date with a girl?
    (And it always looks rather intriguing, too.)
    She's standing there on the corner of Powell and Market—all done up in a bright red dress, with a pair of green shoes, a suede sports jacket and plenty of purple lipstick. Up comes a
    gob—there's a little jockeying back and forth—and the date's on. That's the way they do it at Powell and Market.

MAUDE

   (She's just trying to irritate me.)
    Don't be absurd, dear. I'm serious about this.

JOYCE

   (Serious? Are you?)
    Well, you might just as well count me out of it—because I'm not going to have anything to do with it. Besides, I know the League won't do it

MAUDE

   (She can't cross me like this all the time.)
    Of course you'll do it. Now I don't want to hear any more about it You don't have to go with one of those boys.
    (Let's see—who would be nice?)
    You can invite one of the nice officers you met last year. Or Tony Craig.

JOYCE

    (She's bullying me.)
    I'm not going to do it, Mother. You might as well quit trying to talk me into it.

MAUDE

   (This time I'm going to put my foot down.)
    Of course you'll do it—

JOYCE

    (Determined. Hm-m—maybe this could be fun.)
    All right—if I do it, you'll have to take the consequences.

MAUDE

   (Now what does she mean by that?)
    What kind of consequences?

JOYCE

    (You can't stop me now. You asked for it! )
    If I have to go through with this—I'm going to do it my way!
    (I certainly am!)
    I'll go to the dance—and what's more, I'll take me a man—
    (Oh, this is too delicious!)
    and do you know where I'm going to get him? I'm going down to Powell and Market and pick me up a gob!

Exercise-Scene No. 4

Seated at her telephone in her modest office is KAY CALHOUN, a young woman private investigator, who has been retained by a church group to establish the innocence of a man unjustly accused of a killing, KAY is going through a list of important lawyers, trying to get one who will handle the case of the convicted man at a re-trial. The scene opens with KAY in the middle of a conversation with an attorney.

KAY

    (He just doesn't want to bother with the case. He's made up his mind.)
    If you'll only read the transcript of the trial.
    (pause)
    (He's being stubborn now. He doesn't wart to reason. How can he be so unfair?)
    I can't understand how you can say that before you've looked into the case.
    (If he'd just see me, I know I could convince him that Monkey's innocent. I have the facts. All he'd have to do is listen.)
    Well, will you let me come over and talk to you about it?
    (pause)
    (Stubborn. Pig-headed. Lawyers—Justice! He wouldn't recognize Justice if he walked right into her scales.)
    That's your final answer?
    (Mark him off. Mark him off.)
    Well, thank you very much.
    (What now? Who's left?)
    (KAY hangs up the receiver, looks at her list. All the names are crossed off except one. She now crosses off that last name as she speaks into the telephone again.)
    (Our last hope.)
    Atwater 2743, please.
    (pause)
    (Guess lawyers are like everyone else. They believe what they want to believe.)
    This is Kay Calhoun. Could I talk with Mr. Drumm?
    (pause)
    (Maybe I can drum Mackey's innocence into his head.)
    Hello, Mr. Drumm, I've been retained by a church organization to investigate the Earl Mackey case.
    (Of course you know about it—it's been in all the papers.)
    What's that?
    (pause)
    (/ should give up? Don't you tell me what to do, Mister. Let me tell you a thing or two.)
    But, Mr. Drumm, I've already started the investigation and I've certainly found enough evidence to make me doubt that he's guilty—
    (pause)
    (Man innocent until he's proved guilty! Humph! Guilty until he's proved innocent! But how can we prove anything if no one will take the case?)
    But it seems to me that if there is any doubt at all, every effort should be made to get a new trial—
    (pause)
    (Oh, don't be so unctuous!)
    What?
    (/ wish my mother hadn't taught me to be a lady!)
    Well—thank you—
    (For nothing!)
    Thank you very much. Good-by.
    (And that's that. End of the list. But that's not that—and it's not the end of the line. I'll find someone—I'll find a lawyer yet!)

Exercise-Scene No. 5

A small room in a country building housing courtrooms, jail and morgue, RUTH'S mother and father have been killed in an explosion, RUTH, accompanied by her boy friend, JACK, is in the building, but has just been summoned to identify the bodies of her parents, JACK is left alone in the room. After a considerable length of time a DETECTIVE enters.

DETECTIVE

    (So this is the kid, bub. Sort of innocent-looking. His kind'll fool you. He looks nervous already.)
    Sit down, Jack. You've got lots of time.

JACK

   (Poor Ruth. I wish I could help her. Oh, here's the dectective. Wonder if Ruth is still back there.)
    Where's Ruth?

DETECTIVE

   (I'll play it smooth, first.)
    She's tied up just now, Jack.

JACK

   (She needs me with her. Poor kid.)
    I want to go to her.

DETECTIVE

   (You can go to her—after you've told me what I want to know.)
    After a while. Maybe she wants to be alone.

JACK

    (Alone! At a time like this! She needs me.)
    I don't think she wants to be alone.

DETECTIVE

   (So he wants to be with her, huh? Afraid she might talk. They'll talk—both of 'em.)
    I think maybe she does.
   (Well, I'll start with a few leading questions and get to the point.) In the Navy, weren't you, Jack?

JACK

   (Navy? What's that got to do with it?)
    Yes.

DETECTIVE

    (I'll get him up to the point.)
    How long you in, Jack?

JACK

    (What difference does it make to him?)
    Little over three years.

DETECTIVE

    (Hm—three years. Had time to have plenty of training with depth bombs.)
    Ever have anything to do with depth bombs?

JACK

   (Depth bombs? Me? I was a wireless operator. What's going on here?)
    No. I was a wireless operator.

DETECTIVE

   (Wireless operator. He'd know bow to rig up a time bomb. I'll lead him on a little more.)
    Know how to fix a radio, I suppose?

JACK

    (This guy's trying to find out something. What's he driving at?)
    Why—sure.

DETECTIVE

   (I'll bet you do!)
    Fixed any lately?

JACK

   (Fixed any lately? This guy's nuts. What's really on his mind? What would I be doing fixing radios?)
    Why—no.

DETECTIVE

   (He'll try to alibi out of this.)
    Thought maybe you had. Found some wire in the glove compartment of your car.

JACK

   (What's he doing in the glove compartment of my car?)
    Wire?

DETECTIVE

   (Want to play dumb, huh? Might as well start putting the pressure on.)
    Where did you get that wire, Jack?

JACK

    (There's not any wire in my car. What's he asking me all these questions j or?)
    I don't know what you're talking about.

DETECTIVE

    (He knows what I'm talking about.)
    Oh, yes you do, Jack. That was part of the wire you used on the dynamite.

JACK

    (Dynamite! Does he think I had something to do with—oh my God!)
    Wliat're you talking about?

DETECTIVE

    (Now I've got him! He's excited. O.K.—I'll let him squirm.)
    The dynamite you took out to the yacht.

JACK

    (He's—God! I can't believe—)
    Dynamite to the yacht?

DETECTIVE

    (He's squirming.)
    The dynamite you took out to the yacht and wired up to the alarm clock.

JACK

    (This guy's trying to make trouble for me—I've got to get out —get away—I haven't done anything.)
    Wired to an alarm clock!

DETECTIVE

   (Now—he's breaking. He was in on it, all right.)
    Where did you get the dynamite, Jack?

JACK

   (This man thinks I had something to do with the murder. How could he think such a thing—I never had anything to do with dynamite in my life. I don't like this.)
    I never saw any dynamite.

DETECTIVE

   (Yeah, I know—but where did you get it? Probably stole it somewhere—say! )
    Did you steal it from the Navy Supply Depot?

JACK

    (He's crazy—I'm being framed!—I'm scared—) No—I—

DETECTIVE

   (Fumbling for an answer now. He stole it from the Navy, sure as Hell.)
    You bought it?

JACK

    (I'm scared—/ don't know what to do—) No—I—

DETECTIVE

    (You sure had a motive, boy!)
    Ruth's a wealthy girl, now.
    (You knew about the money, kid.)
    You know that, don't you, Jack?

JACK

    (Money!—What's that got to do with me?)
    How would I know?

DETECTIVE

    (They both had a motive. Looks like they were both in on it. He didn't have the money to swing it—but Ruth did.)
    Did Ruth buy the dynamite?

JACK

   (You lousy—you son-of-a—/ He's accusing—)
    What's she got to do with this?

DETECTIVE

   (Yep! She gave him the money and he bought it.)
    Or—did you buy it yourself?

JACK

   (What's he talking about—?)
    Did I buy what myself. I don't know what you're talking about
    (This is bad.)
    I want to get out of here.

DETECTIVE

   (It'll be a long time before you get out of here, boy. You might as well open up.)
    Well—you might be here quite a while yet
    (All right, Smart Guy. I've had enough of this. Let's let him have it!)
    Come on, kid. Why did you murder them?
    (Let's see how you take that.)

JACK

   (Me—Murder—? Oh, God,! Why I never even—where's Ruth. What are they doing to Ruth? We're being accused of—)
    Murder!

At first you will probably think and react as you believe you are supposed to. That won't ring true, and the audience will know it.

You must double-track in the character's image.

Of course, what the character means to you—what you are able to make out of it—will always reflect a little of your personal self. A certain amount of the actor's ego is necessary to every characterization; it gives impact.

Are You Ready To Move Onto The Next Lesson? Click Here