"Waited a Lifetime": How Once Upon a Time in the Middle East Shatters Hollywood's War Narrative with a Single Meal

A major talking point has recently hit Hong Kong cinemas: Once Upon a Time in the Middle East (literally: Welcome to Dragon Restaurant), directed by Wen Muye and starring comedy superstar Shen Teng. Released in Hong Kong and Macau on September 11, the film passed the HK$1 million box office milestone in just a few days. Its performance in mainland China has been even more extraordinary: since its August 11 release, it has grossed over 2.2 billion RMB as of September 19, holding a high Douban rating of 8.7 and ranking third on the 2026 national box office leaderboard.

Official film poster.

Yet, what truly ignited the film's viral phenomenon was the explosive response from overseas audiences. Following the release of its trailer on X and YouTube, comments from Middle Eastern netizens poured in: "Everyone has had enough of Hollywood's narrative," wrote one viewer. Another stated bluntly: "We never, ever dared to imagine that this subject could be turned into a movie."

An international report by China News Service captured this collective shock in a single sentence: "We waited a lifetime, and finally, a Chinese film tells the story of how America devastated the Middle East from this perspective."

Dragon Restaurant after being bombed by US forces.

A True Story Stranger Than Fiction

The film follows Xu Fu (played by Shen Teng), a chef from Northeast China who travels to the Middle East to pay off his debts. Alongside front-of-house manager Ma Junsheng (played by Jiang Qiming), he runs the "Dragon Restaurant," carving out a sanctuary of warmth amidst the chaos of war. The story is far from pure fiction; the protagonist is a composite character inspired by several Chinese entrepreneurs who operated restaurants during the Iraq War.

One real-life prototype is Jilin native Chen Xianzhong. After completing his military service, Chen earned a degree in Arabic from Peking University and traveled to Iraq as an interpreter in 1984. In 2003, in the aftermath of the war, he opened "Yanlongwan" in Baghdad—the city's very first Chinese restaurant. The establishment unexpectedly became a safe haven during the conflict. In 2004, when seven Chinese workers were taken hostage by armed militants, Chen personally delivered the list of hostages to the Chinese Embassy in Iraq, buying crucial time for their rescue. Now 73, Chen reflected in an interview with the Beijing Daily: "Everyone has to eat"—running a restaurant is the most natural way for overseas Chinese to blend into local communities.

Screenshot of an interview with real-life prototype Chen Xianzhong. (Source: Beijing Daily)

Another pair of real-life inspirations are Liu Lei and Shuai Xuejun from Shenzhen. In July 2003, Liu ventured into Baghdad alone with $3,500 in seed capital, stuffing his cash into his sneakers to prevent robbery. The duo eventually opened the "China Dragon" restaurant inside the heavily guarded Green Zone, winning over customers by serving affordable fried rice. Daily revenue once peaked at $4,000, with selling late-night whisky to American troops proving to be their most lucrative endeavor—soldiers would arrive in tanks, military Jeeps, and even helicopters to buy alcohol. According to a 2006 report by China Youth Daily, they earned 3.08 million RMB from US military camps in just eighteen months. They later penned their experiences in the book Making Money at Death's Door, which served as a core narrative blueprint for the film.

Xu Fu and Ma Junsheng make a fortune selling whisky to US troops.

Why It Shook the World

The film's international title, Once Upon a Time in the Middle East, is both a homage to Sergio Leone's Once Upon a Time in America and a subtle challenge. For decades, Western soldiers have anchored Hollywood's Middle East war films, while local inhabitants were routinely reduced to helpless victims or radical extremists. Welcome to Dragon Restaurant avoids grandstanding or taking political sides. Instead, through the eyes of a Chinese chef simply trying to clear his debts, it highlights the shared humanity among all parties trapped in conflict—prompting popular media commentators to note that the film "shatters Hollywood's war narrative with a single meal."

A still from the film.

A Meal's War and Peace

The genius of Welcome to Dragon Restaurant lies in how it uses "food" as a poignant counterpoint to war. When director Wen Muye first pitched the project to Shen Teng, he offered a single guiding thought: "Food represents comfort and everyday life. War destroys food. The warmer the meal, the more haunting the reality of war becomes."

A still of Xu Fu and a kitchen hand wrapping dumplings.

The narrative is stitched together through a series of memorable meals: a bittersweet farewell breakfast, a cross-cultural wedding feast blending Middle Eastern grilled fish with Northeastern iron-pot stew, and a makeshift Christmas dinner inside a US military prison—where Xu Fu transforms Boston lobsters into a fiery "Spicy Lobster" dish and renames the Shandong snack "Scorpion Climbs the Snow Mountain" as "Scorpion Climbs the Christmas Tree." Even the humble bowl of stewed rice that Xu Fu self-deprecatingly calls "unpresentable" during their escape finds its way onto the Dragon Restaurant's permanent menu 20 years later.

A massive iron pot at a Middle Eastern wedding banquet.

The symbolism of food is strikingly visceral. A simple fried egg, scorched under intense heat, curls into a blackened ring of ash—a haunting visual parallel to a child turned into a human bomb, leaving behind only a dark, charred circle on the scorched earth. In the dramatic "Christmas Raid" sequence, the director uses parallel editing to alternate between glittering ornaments on a Christmas tree and golden sesame balls frying in hot oil, before a bomb lands right at the characters' feet in a terrifying instant.

Authenticity was paramount to the production. The crew spent six months constructing a 100,000-square-meter Middle Eastern street set at the Qingdao Oriental Movie Metropolis, meticulously recreating over 200 buildings. The restaurant kitchen was fully operational with real gas fires; Shen Teng underwent specialized culinary training before shooting, completing all cooking scenes himself. Remarkably, the actor playing the groom in the wedding scene is "Lao Wang in China," a mainland-based content creator who survived the real Iraq War—having been wounded in the conflict, he admitted that even the sound of firecrackers used to trigger intense anxiety for years.

The Middle Eastern street set constructed at Qingdao Oriental Movie Metropolis. (Source: China News Service)

China Begins to Tell Universal Stories

The global rollout for Welcome to Dragon Restaurant is expanding rapidly: it premiered in Singapore on September 17, Japan on September 18, and is slated for North America on October 9, with releases across Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa currently unlocking.

This film, telling a Middle Eastern story through a Chinese lens, embodies the deeper essence of the "Chinamaxxing" movement: China is no longer merely exporting products or cultural iconography, but is beginning to offer global audiences an alternative narrative framework—one that refuses to preach or judge, choosing instead to empathize. As director Wen Muye observed, the simple phrase "eat well" is a mundane greeting in peacetime; amidst the flames of war, however, it becomes the most resilient act of survival. This gentle yet unwavering Chinese perspective may very well be what global moviegoers have been "waiting a lifetime" to see.

Chinamaxxing

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When conversation turned to global style capitals, the answers used to be unanimous: Paris, Milan, and New York. Luxury meant European houses, and interior design oscillated between Western classical and Nordic minimalism. But the tide has turned dramatically. Reimagined by a new generation of designers, traditional Chinese aesthetics are not only captivating domestic consumers—they are reshaping the global fashion landscape.

A few recent milestones illustrate the sheer momentum of this shift.

The Mamian Skirt: From Controversy to Cultural Phenomenon

A major turning point arrived in July 2022 during the "Dior incident." The French fashion house unveiled a pleated midi skirt priced at 29,000 RMB ($4,000 USD) featuring a cut nearly identical to the traditional Chinese mamian ("horse-face") skirt. When Dior labeled the design an "iconic Dior silhouette," it sparked widespread backlash over cultural appropriation, even drawing Chinese students to protest outside the brand’s flagship store on the Champs-Élysées in Paris.

Dior faced intense backlash online over accusations of plagiarizing the traditional Hanfu mamian skirt. The item was subsequently pulled from markets. (Source: Jianliao Network)

Ironically, the controversy turned the mamian skirt into a global sensation. Li Yuting, a Guilin native living in Rochester, New York, went viral on TikTok after posting a video titled "Making My American Husband Wear a Mamian Skirt." Her husband, Zhu Haidan, embraced Hanfu attire, and the couple was later invited to perform traditional Chinese cultural programs at local institutions, including the prestigious Eastman School of Music.

This cultural frenzy quickly transformed into serious business. Cao County in Shandong province—once known primarily for exporting labor—now employs over 100,000 people in its booming Hanfu manufacturing cluster. In 2023, the county’s annual sales topped 7 billion RMB ($980 million USD), with sales of New Year’s apparel and mamian skirts alone generating hundreds of millions of RMB in a single month.

Songmont: When Bernard Arnault Came Knocking

The movement extends beyond apparel into luxury leather goods. Founded in 2013 by Shanxi designer Fu Song, leather accessories brand Songmont draws deep inspiration from Central Plains heritage. The architectural lines of its "Eaves" collection mimic the upturned eaves of Shanxi’s ancient Nanchan Temple, while the "Tracing" collection evokes the wild "Gannan Tiger" of the Tibetan plateau. Steering clear of cliché dragon-and-phoenix embroideries, Songmont distills Eastern motifs into sleek, minimalist curves and earthy palettes. The brand has showcased at Paris Fashion Week for two consecutive years, shipping to online customers across 150 countries.

Shoppers queue outside Songmont's boutique at Beijing's WF Central mall. (Source: Guancha.cn / Fengwen)

The defining moment for the brand occurred in September 2025. While touring Shanghai, Bernard Arnault, chairman and CEO of luxury titan LVMH, made a point to visit Songmont’s flagship boutique in person and purchased two handbags.

Last year, during his store inspections in Shanghai, LVMH Chairman Bernard Arnault (first from left) took the initiative to step into a Songmont boutique and purchased two handbags.

According to Bloomberg data, Songmont’s online sales in China surged nearly 90% in the first three quarters of 2025, even as Gucci’s domestic sales plummeted by 50% over the same period. Today, over half the clientele at Songmont’s Shanghai flagship are international visitors, and "reverse daigou"—where overseas buyers commission friends in China to buy and ship bags abroad—has become a booming trade.

Molten Copper Meets Haute Couture

In high fashion, an unexpected icon recently entered the runway. On September 10, SS2027 Beijing Fashion Week hosted "Zhu Bingren Night" along the Wangfujing Pedestrian Street. 82-year-old master coppersmith Zhu Bingren took to the T-stage wearing his custom "Molten Couture" (Rongzhuang), debuting the world’s first runway show centered on copper-infused evening wear.

Renowned as the "father of contemporary Chinese copper architecture," Zhu pioneered "molten copper art" in 2006, allowing liquid metal to flow freely and solidify into organic, one-of-a-kind textures. Translating this technique into fashion, he merged custom dyeing, brocade weaving, and gold-thread couch embroidery (Panjin Xiou) to freeze the fluid beauty of surging molten copper directly onto fine silk.

SS2027 Beijing Fashion Week presents "Zhu Bingren Night" on Wangfujing Pedestrian Street. (Source: Guancha.cn / Fengwen)

"Every era produces its own attire," Zhu remarked. "Tradition isn't about copying the ancients; it's about creating for the present." His words offer a fitting summary for the entire Guochao movement.

Heritage Gold Rivals Hermès for Ultra-Wealthy Clients

In high jewelry, the disruption is even more pronounced. Laopu Gold opened its flagship boutique in Beijing’s Wangfujing district in 2009, specializing in gold pieces crafted via six ancient imperial techniques—including filigree inlay, hand-hammering, and engraving—two of which are recognized on China's national intangible cultural heritage list.

Unlike traditional gold retailers that price jewelry by weight, Laopu Gold uses a fixed-price model driven by design and craftsmanship, incorporating cultural motifs like gourds, vajra pestles, and rose windows. Signature collections frequently sell out despite high price premiums.

Eager shoppers line up outside a Laopu Gold store. (Source: China.org.cn)

This fusion of heritage and fine craft is directly winning over clients from top European houses. Frost & Sullivan data shows that customer overlap between Laopu Gold and five major global luxury houses—including Louis Vuitton, Hermès, and Cartier—rose from 77.3% in July 2025 to 82.4% by March 2026. Morgan Stanley highlighted the trend in a research note, warning that Laopu Gold poses a growing competitive threat to Cartier in Asia.

The shift is palpable in Hong Kong, where Laopu Gold established a presence in 2019. The brand now operates three prime locations, including flagship boutiques at Central IFC and Harbour City, where queues routinely spill outside with wait times exceeding 30 minutes. Following a new boutique opening at The Parisian Macao in May, Laopu Gold's overseas sales reached 1.6 billion RMB ($225 million USD) in the first half of 2025—a massive 450% jump year-on-year.

Beyond Being Seen: Rewriting the Rules

These milestones are not isolated outliers, but facets of a broader structural shift: when deep cultural heritage meets mature craftsmanship and modern brand building, Chinese labels can command real pricing power in the luxury sphere. Debate remains over whether high premiums can be sustained long-term, but one thing is clear: the rules of the global fashion game are being rewritten. Positioned at the crossroads of East and West, Hong Kong stands at the very forefront of this evolution.