We disembark at Cefalù, and even from the station platform can immediately see what all the fuss is about. It was named Κεφαλοίδιον by the Greeks in the 4th century, meaning ‘Head’ after the bulging and precipitous head of rock that dominates the landscape, and that’s enough of a Greek connection to place it on the Ange & The Boss wonder trail. In reality, though, it’s Mike White’s black comedy The White Lotus that’s tugged us seventy kilometres east of Palermo to the jewel of the Tyrrhenian coast, a picture postcard of a Sicilian town with a 12th century Norman cathedral and a beach made of actual sand.
I can’t overstate how pretty Cefalù is. Palermo is lovely too, but I tended to walk around with eyes cast down, because doggies do and, a lot of the time, owners don’t. In the old town of Cefalù, it’s like everything is scrubbed with a toothbrush. Dust doesn’t pass muster in this place much less dog shit. This is a tourist town that knows where its bread is buttered. On the narrow designer shopping drag, impeccably cobblestoned, we walk behind a garbage truck that looks like it might still have that new car smell. In summer, the numbers swell to over 50,000, but on this perfect December day, 16 degrees under pure Italian azzuro, it’s just us and Cefalù’s 15,000 permanent residents.
We stop off at the tourist information to load up on White Lotus location spots. Like every other shop or restaurant in town, it’s just us and the staff.
‘Do you know the show, The White Lotus’? I ask.
From facial impressions around the office we quickly get the impression that The White Lotus is either not called 'The White Lotus in Italy, or is not as popular as it is in Australia.
‘il Loto Blanco?’ I try, valiantly.
Still nothing. We end up telling the four women assisting us about the opening scene on the famous Spiaggia di Cefalù, the one where the body floats in.
Still no flutter of recognition but they hear us out. They set about marking other attractions on the map. We find out that parts of Cinema Paradiso were shot in Cefalù, and there’s general pan-office excitement about us going to Museo Mandralisca to see the Portrait of an Unknown Man (1465) by Antonello da Messina. ‘Many people think his smile is actually more arresting than Mona Lisa’s’ our helper says. ‘And you’ll get much closer.’
Cam tells her we’ll go, but I know that in his mind he’s constructing his day around walking up a hill. Cam loves climbing hills. We do however take her advice about seeing a world famous Byzantine mosaic in Cefalù Cathedral, which is NOT the sort of church you’ll find in an Australian towns of 15,000 people, like say, Strathbogie.
Then Cam climbs a hill.
I also attempt to climb a hill, but with a new left knee and a right ankle that needs to be fused, I’m a slave to arthritis and move at about a quarter the speed. So we split up, Cam as sprinter, me as limper. I do however make the halfway point, where I produce a smile that I think is at least as interesting as either Mona Lisa or Antonello’s Unknown Man. People will end up studying it for centuries. They’ll also wonder why I included a cliff as backdrop, when the view was back and to the right.1
Halfway up the mountain I turn around, defeated by lack of cartilage. I do however make it far enough to see the megalithic Tempio di Diana, part of the Rocca di Cefalù ruin and dating back to the 4th or 5th century BC, and yes, defaced by Ally and Diane from Belfast in September 2024.
I walk down the mountain humming John Cougar Mellencamp.
Little ditty, about Ally & Diane
Two Irish fuckwits spraying shit where they can
We reunite at Cefalù’s famous beach, and Cam starts walking like a man with a purpose. Little do I know, he has an idea. He’s checking and rechecking his phone, and I’ll later discover that he’s lining up angles for the opening shot from The White Lotus. Eventually, he has it worked out, a million dollar vista that’s about fifty metres from a boat that’s done a truly terrible job of coming in to shore.
We then make the re-enactment. Cam’s just put it up on his social media (follow him in LinkedIn) and I thought his summary was funny.
“Should I take off my pants?”
In retrospect, I can’t believe I said no when Tony offered.
He was ready to commit to the bit, but my sensibilities somehow became delicate. Rare.
I still think our homage to the opening shot of season two of The White Lotus is pretty funny.
Or “The White Bloatus”, as Tony dubbed our version.
We were in Palermo, Sicily, where our film Ange & The Boss was nominated for the “Best Football Documentary” award at the 44th Paladino d’Oro Sport Film Festival. Being selected for this festival was a huge thrill, a lifetime pinch-me moment. Tony and I were giddy with excitement.
Palermo is rich with architectural curiosities, intimidating fashion, and delectable food. And, given the nature of our visit, many many many films about sport. We watched A LOT of films.
After a strong stint as attentive film festival denizens, we felt we'd earned a day off. There’s a limit to how many daylight hours I can spend in a dark room. It was time to explore a bit of Sicily!
Tony heard good things about nearby Cefalù2, a short coastal train ride away. He also discovered Cefalù was a shooting location for the HBO television series The White Lotus.
The White Lotus is a great show. I devoured the entire second season on Tony’s recommendation a week before we left for Italy. I started watching because it was set in Sicily, and continued watching because it is fantastic television.
Once we realised the opening scene of season two was shot on Cefalù beach, we knew what we had to do.
Using a phone and a long selfie stick, and foolishly leaving Tony’s pants on, we impulsively made this.
The White Bloatus.
I’ll sign off with a big celebration🎆 because our Puskas in Australia doco, Ange & The Boss has a Victorian and South Australian cinema season ((we’re working on other states, send us your independent cinema contacts!) Then we’re off to the birthplace of Les Murray, the Pápa International Historical Film Festival in Hungary from 24-27th April.
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NEW MELBOURNE SCREENINGS with Q&A (Cam and I will appear at all of the below - we’d love it if you’d copy and paste and email these dates to your Greek or Hungarian or football loving friend)
MELBOURNE
Friday 14 March, 6:30pm
Cinema Nova, Carlton, Q&A with Paul Trimboli & Francis Leach (Purchase tickets)
Saturday 15 March, 3pm
Classic Cinema, Elsternwick, guests TBA (Purchase tickets)
Sunday 16 March, 3pm
Lido Cinema, Hawthorn, with Libbi Gorr from Red Card for Mummy podcast (Purchase tickets)
Saturday 22 March, 3pm
Cameo Cinema, Belgrave, guests TBA, (Purchase tickets)
Saturday 23 March, 5.30pm
Thornbury Picture House
GEELONG
Sunday 23 March, 3pm
Pivotonian, Geelong
ADELAIDE
Saturday 29 March
The Picadilly, North Adelaide (Purchase tickets)
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The fascinating answer is that my forward facing camera on the phone is broken, so I have to ‘guess’ when it comes to selfies.
I have good friend and 1800 Lasagna proprietor Joey Kellock to thank for Cefalu recommendation
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