A recipe for peace

French filmmaker and critic Francois Truffaut once said, "Every film about war ends up being pro-war" — a famous line that has been cited repeatedly, often by those who argue that war films inevitably glorify combat and turn violence into spectacle.

This paradox has inspired creators to seek new narrative approaches for anti-war storytelling. This summer, a Chinese blockbuster is offering just such a response: a fresh perspective on war, seen through the eyes of a Chinese chef.

Once Upon a Time in the Middle East, starring A-list actor Shen Teng as the chef, has become one of this year's most popular blockbusters. Since its debut on Aug 11, the film has grossed more than 1.6 billion yuan ($237.9 million), topping China's single-day box office charts for 14 consecutive days.

It currently holds a rating of 8.6 out of 10 on the popular review aggregator Douban, with many Chinese moviegoers praising its nuanced portrayal of human complexity amid war and its thought-provoking reflection on the longing for peace.

The third feature directed by Wen Muye, best known for his 2018 hit Dying to Survive, the film has an unusual premise in China's huge domestic market. Although the country has produced many war-themed films and television series over the past decades, few have combined overseas warfare with Chinese cuisine.

For thousands of years, food in China has been far more than a way to satisfy hunger. It carries memories of family and home, reflects the diversity of regional cultures, and preserves traditions passed down through generations.

These themes run throughout the film, which unfolds through the memories of its protagonist, Xu Fu, taking audiences back to 2002.

Xu, a chef with 30 years of experience, leaves his elderly mother and teenage daughter behind in northeastern China to work at a restaurant in a Middle Eastern country, hoping to pay off his debts. At the farewell dinner, he and his mother eat dumplings, a traditional Chinese culinary gesture in some parts of the country. Families customarily serve dumplings when seeing someone off and noodles when welcoming them home, symbolizing blessings and hopes for those traveling far from home.

Upon landing on foreign soil, Xu quickly showcases his exceptional culinary skills at the Loong (Dragon) Restaurant, owned by a local official with the country's water and electricity authority. Among the dishes he prepares is "loong tide top" (dragon raises its head), a mandarin fish scored along the back and deep-fried so that it curves upward, which symbolizes rising fortunes and a bright future.

At first, everything indeed looks up. Xu's cooking quickly attracts local diners, and he becomes friends with Ma Junsheng, the restaurant's Chinese front-desk manager. But a sudden outbreak of war plunges the Middle Eastern country into turmoil, trapping the two men amid ruins and gunfire.

From there, one tense twist follows another. Xu decides not to return home after his boss makes him an irresistible offer to stay. Then, following an unexpected bombing meant to kill both American soldiers and locals, Xu and Ma are arrested and treated as suspects. Their fortunes take a sharp turn for the worse, and they soon become entangled with a group of orphans' fate — teenagers and children who are being brainwashed by extremist militants that are themselves rejected by the local population.

Yet even as the story moves deeper into the chaos of war, the film repeatedly returns to food as a symbol of connection and harmony. For Wen, that symbolism is rooted in his own cultural background.

As a native of Changchun in Northeast China's Jilin province, Wen tells China Daily that he believes Chinese cuisine conveys a deeper message: a yearning for wholeness and harmony.

"When Chinese families dine together, they traditionally gather around a round table, and chopsticks are used in pairs," Wen says, referring to the symbolism of pairs as a representation of reunion.

"So, in China, the act of eating together carries the symbolic meaning of 'ceasing conflict'," Wen adds, revealing that he hopes the movie will help audiences discover that even amid struggles and sorrow, ordinary people hold on to the humble wish of sharing a good meal.

The idea for the film dates back to 2017, when Wen was working on post-production for Dying to Survive, a film about an unlikely hero who smuggles medicine. "I read a news story about several Chinese people who ran restaurants in the Middle East and encountered war. It impressed me and gave me the impetus to create this story," Wen recalls.

Several years later, the director began preparing for the movie, traveling to Jordan and visiting refugee camps, where he spoke with people who had lived through war. But due to complicated international tensions at the time, he chose to cast Egyptian actors, including then 13-year-old Omar Sherif and veteran Sherif Sobhy, who play an orphan and the owner of the Loong Restaurant, respectively.

Sherif, whose great-grandfather was from Shandong province, learned Mandarin and about Chinese cuisine in Egypt for three months to prepare for the role.

Additionally, Faruk Muhammad, a young Egyptian actor who also plays an orphan, impressed Wen during his audition. For his character — a boy exploited by an extremist armed group to become a suicide bomber — Muhammad made a backpack filled with handmade "explosive" props himself, as featured in the script he was given.

"In the Arabic-speaking world, Egypt has a developed film and TV industry, as evidenced by its long-running Cairo International Film Festival, so we held casting calls there, and many actors showed up to audition," Wen says.

But the majority of the production was completed in China. Some exotic landscapes and creatures, however, could only be captured abroad. "For instance, we shot a scene of dromedaries (one-humped camels) running across the desert. In China, Bactrian camels — the two-humped variety — are a more common sight," Wen says.

To make the food scenes convincing, the production also brought in veteran chefs to coach the actors in cooking techniques and help design the dishes featured in the film. One of the most mouth-watering sequences shows Xu and Ma, assisted by more than 20 local orphans, preparing a wedding feast. The centerpiece is a large iron wok measuring more than 2 meters in diameter, turning the preparation of a celebratory meal into a striking visual spectacle.

Speaking of the wok used to prepare a fusion dish that combines iron-pot stew, a typical cooking method in northeastern China, with Arabic-style grilled fish, Wen says the scene was intended to reflect the exchange and fusion of Chinese and foreign cultures through vibrant, everyday imagery. More importantly, it highlights the shared aspiration of people from different countries for a better life.

"I'm not really a foodie, and I'm not much of a cook either. But what I want this film to say is, 'Eat well'. In China, those two words can carry much more meaning than they seem to. They hint at 'Take care of yourself'," says Wen. "In times of chaos, it can be a quiet expression of love — a wish that you stay safe, keep going, and above all, make it home," he adds.