Review by William Chan
“Once Upon a Time in the Middle East” (Its Chinese title 歡迎來龍餐館 meaning “Welcome to the Dragon Restaurant”), directed by Wen Muye and starring comedic actor Shen Teng, is a masterpiece in depicting the intricate realities of wartime. The 2026 film shines in its remarkably accurate and nuanced portrayal of different factions – from foreign armies to local factions and neutral civilians – providing a grounded look at how each group realistically reacts when thrust into a complex geopolitical conflict.
The film follows Xu Fu (Shen Teng), a pragmatic Chinese chef who moves to a Middle Eastern city to open a restaurant and pay off his debts. When war suddenly breaks out, his diner becomes an accidental sanctuary for local orphans, forcing him to navigate the surrounding chaos purely to survive.
While most online commentaries focus on the film’s touching emotional beats and Shen Teng’s impressive range beyond comedy, few highlight its brilliant commitment to portraying war as it truly is while threading together a complex narrative.
Living in Macau, I am constantly exposed to Western (primarily US) media and information. There is a noticeable gap in how the West and China project information in favour of their respective national interests. The West is arguably far better at subtle propaganda, using cinema effectively as soft power. In contrast, many Chinese films I have seen treat foreign characters and dynamics with a naive, cliché-ridden, hands-off approach that often makes me cringe.
“Once Upon a Time in the Middle East” is a much-needed step forward. Instead of routinely reducing the US to an evil force bent on world domination or “hunting for oil,” the film leaves the war’s origins unsaid; one day the city is bombed, and lives are altered forever. The US soldiers are portrayed humanely and tragically – struggling with combat trauma, facing constant lethal threats, longing for home, and grappling with the pointlessness of their deployment. Even the more sadistic interrogator is given a backstory that allows for empathy.
Crucially, the film does not shy away from the atrocities committed by local extremist factions. One might expect a standard narrative where Western forces terrorise the land while local fighters are framed purely as heroic freedom fighters. Instead, the film depicts how radicalised fundamentalists exploit innocent children, brainwashing them into suicide missions in the name of vengeance with complete disregard for human life. This makes the yearning for a peace narrative much more powerful.
What I appreciated most was the accurate, if uncomfortable, portrayal of the Chinese protagonist. In traditional Chinese culture, pragmatism, intelligence, comradeship, order, and family take precedence over abstract notions of universal altruism. Rather than painting him with unrealistic, saintly heroism, the film grounds his motivations in self-preservation and practical duty.
We see his quick wit and sharp negotiating skills, his devotion to providing for his family back home, his solidarity with fellow countrymen, and his quiet pride in his heritage. Yet the film doesn’t hide his blind spots. While enjoying reliable food, water and electricity supply, he turns a blind eye to the suffering outside his doors. Even his aid to local orphans is driven by practical utility – they help run the shop. This nuanced, unglamorised portrayal makes his character journey feel far more genuine and compelling than standard Hollywood or patriotic tropes.
Ultimately, “Once Upon a Time in the Middle East” succeeds because it trusts its audience with complexity. By discarding simple morality tales in favour of sharp cultural observation, nuanced human tragedy, and unvarnished pragmatism, it sets a compelling new standard for Chinese international cinema – one that values authentic human nature far above convenient heroic tropes and patriotism.
The reviewer saw the film in Zhuhai last week.
Stills from the film show Xu Fu (Shen Teng) feeding and being fed by other characters—a recurring visual motif contrasting helplessness and vulnerability with acts of comfort.
Protagonist Xu Fu (played by Shen Teng) seen cooking in a movie still. – Images courtesy of Douban Movie
