Falafels and Friendship: ‘Once Upon a Time in Gaza’ at LPFF
- Shanai Tanwar
- 6 minutes ago
- 3 min read
When I heard that the London Palestine Film Festival was showing a film with a plot involving a falafel shop and a drug operation, I was all ears. Add to the fact that it happens to be a black comedy directed by acclaimed filmmakers Tarzan and Arab Nasser, and I knew it would be worth the ride.
Bizarrely, the movie begins with a recent quote from Donald Trump musing on his plans for Gaza to become a “riviera” in the Middle East, but quickly relocates us to the city as it was in 2007. It is against the backdrop of Israeli drones and television news decrying the siege on Gaza that we meet our protagonists—Osama, the owner of a falafel shop and Yahya, his unlikely but faithful best friend-slash-accomplice-slash-coworker. By day they run a shady drug operation involving stolen prescriptions, pills stuffed within falafel wraps, and numerous trips to pharmacies around the city. By night, they lounge in the shop after-hours, listening to Arabic pop music.
Their operation is threatened by a corrupt local law enforcer, Abou Sami, who seems hellbent on getting a cut of their profits. When Osama refuses to become his informant upon arrest—in a classic prisoner’s dilemma-esque situation—Abou Sami storms the falafel shop and murders him at night. The dynamic between the three men adds a crime noir element to the film, which seems to be a commentary on authority structures broadly. This marks the end of the film’s first half, with Yahya visibly traumatized by his best friend’s death.
Jumping two years ahead, the second half reveals that the shy Yahya has been scouted for a low budget production by a local director due to his uncanny resemblance to a martyred freedom fighter. The efforts to create art as a means of resistance and cultural capital are contrasted with hilarious sequences of actors’ squabbles over dressing up as Israeli soldiers and refusing to lower the Palestinian flag to the ground.
It’s a meta move that doubles both the protagonist and the audience, as viewers watch this film-within-a-film and witness Yahya grow increasingly emboldened within his role. When his paths cross with Abou Sami again, Yahya doesn’t back down from the possibility of revenge—rather, he takes inspiration from the rebel character he’s casted as to avenge his best friend. A cat-and-mouse chase ensues with Abou Sami ultimately dying.
In a nod to the fickle nature of life and the randomness of mortality, Once Upon a Time in Gaza concludes with an absurdist plotline where a stray bullet ricochets and hits Yahya in the head. Since the local production did not have a high enough budget to procure fake ammunition for props, the actors pretending to be soldiers had been using real guns all along. In a ridiculously simple yet complicated turn of meta-everything, Yahya actually becomes the martyr he was playing all along.
Though its messaging about brotherhood, culture, and survival is consistent throughout, it is in the depiction of the mundane aspects of the occupation that the film’s commentary is most effective. Drug-laced falafel wraps are handed over in greasy newspapers bearing headlines of Netanyahu’s genocidal tactics, shots of bomb explosions over residential blocks splice key plotlines, and Yahya struggles to gain government clearance to attend his sister’s wedding in the West Bank. It goes to show that for a resident of Gaza, occupation is a daily lived reality, not a one-off incident.
I would agree with some of the concerns about the film’s pacing and two-act format, which have been noted as being abrupt and ill-executed, as well as the remarkable absence of female actors. But I also believe that Once Upon a Time in Gaza more than makes up for these oversights with endearing performances from Nader Abd Alhay (Yahya) and Majd Eid (Osama) who you can’t help but root for. They imbue an authenticity to their characters that makes them instantly likeable, and do not compromise their commitment to the intense parts for the comedy.
As the characters disappear off-screen, Once Upon a Time in Gaza closes with the words “One day, it will end,” a subtle yet powerful reminder of Palestinian resistance in both fictional and real worlds. It’s a sharp juxtaposition to Trump’s quote at the opening of the film and jolts us back to the present-day where the occupation still continues, but so does hope and solidarity. For any enthusiast of absurdist dark humour, falafel and Palestinian excellence, this film is an experience filled with laughter and somber realisations.
Edited by Hannah Tang, Co-Editor of Film & TV
