“I write plays because dialogue is the most respectful way of contradicting myself”, Tom Stoppard once said, the British author who conquered the front line of contemporary drama with Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead (1966). The play is a “comedy of ideas” that puts two secondary characters from Shakespeare’s Hamlet in an existentialist drift. Sent by the Prince of Denmark’s uncle, who hoped to contain his nephew’s anger and unravel the origin of his madness, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are welcomed by Gertrude and Claudius. They soon become lost in their mission, unable to understand the world around them, as well as the geography of the place they occupy in the plot. On their way to Elsinore, the name of the place where theatre thinks about itself, they ask “Who are we?” A question that acts as starting point to triggering an onstage reflection about the labyrinths of identity and the vertigo of acting. At the centre of this inquiry are, now and forever, the actors, creatures that, being so many, are “the same side of two coins” or “the two sides of the same coin”.