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About Graz

So, I’m wanderin’ Soho, 1940s vibes—war’s ragin’, bombs droppin’, and there she is, leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt hiked up, eyes sharp as a bayonet. “Lost, love?” she says, smirkin’. I’m fumin’—not at her, nah, at the world! Blokes usin’ her up, tossin’ her like rubbish. Makes me wanna roar, “We shall never surrender!” But I chill, cos she’s got that spark—like Ofelia’s stubborn hope.

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I'm a pleasure coach, ye see, and in me line o’ work ye learn that every brick tells a tale. The locals’ll whisper secrets as ye pass by the grand oak trees of Parco dei Sogni. Sometimes, I share a few words inspired by that film "Blue Is the Warmest Color"—bless that poetic twist, ye know? I often murmur, "I was only one and not yet a man!" findin’ beauty in every fragmented moment—just like that movie, savvy?

The White Lotus' Jon Gries on that face-off with Belinda and why Greg is a "run-of-the-mill psychopath"