A Chip Odyssey tells the story of Taiwan’s rise to semiconductor dominance with a depth and intimacy that until now has remained untold.

If you’ve seen the 1987 film Fatal Attraction, you may recall a brief but telling scene about five minutes in. As Dan Gallagher (Michael Douglas) struggles with a stubborn umbrella, Alex Forrest (Glenn Close) observes him with a gaze that blends amusement and piercing inspection.

“Is it made in Taiwan?” she asks jokingly.

Such was the perception of Taiwanese products when the island’s information and communications technology (ICT) industry was beginning to form, defying expectations and ultimately reshaping the global tech landscape.

Surprisingly, Taiwan’s remarkable redemption arc began over breakfast in 1974, when seven men gathered at Little Hsin Hsin, a modest veteran-run eatery in Taipei. With the island’s future uncertain and its economy still rooted in light manufacturing, they floated a radical idea: that Taiwan – despite having no domestic chipmaking experience – should build a semiconductor industry from the ground up.

What began as an informal gathering over soy milk and fried dough sticks would quietly set in motion one of the most consequential industrial transformations in modern history.

That breakfast laid the foundation for the creation of Taiwan’s Electronics Research and Service Organization (ERSO) and a government-backed initiative that dispatched engineers overseas to master advanced chipmaking technologies. Within a decade, Taiwan had established its first pilot fabrication line. Within two, it had emerged as a global force. Today, the legacy of that morning lives on in the form of Taiwan’s central role in the world’s technology supply chain.

These stories – and many more – are poignantly told in A Chip Odyssey, an absorbing new documentary that traces the hero’s journey of the engineers, officials, and visionaries who helped shape modern Taiwan. Directed by Hsiao Chu-chen, the 106-minute film is the product of five years of work and more than 80 interviews with key figures in the semiconductor world, chronicling how the island built its chip empire from the ground up.

“Honestly, I wasn’t that interested in semiconductors at first,” Hsiao says. The industry seemed cold and technical, all about machines and engineering. “No human warmth.”

That changed in 2019, when she attended the memorial service for Hu Ding-hua, a quiet giant in Taiwan’s tech history. Hu had served as associate director of the government-backed Industrial Technology Research Institute (ITRI) and was the first general director of ERSO. His passing – and the unexpectedly heartfelt tributes delivered by some of the world’s most powerful tech CEOs – sparked something in Hsiao: the realization that behind Taiwan’s rise in semiconductors was a profoundly human story waiting to be told.

“At the memorial, I suddenly felt something – a door opening in a wall,” Hsiao says. “A light coming through. I could feel the heartbeat of the people who had built this industry from the ground up. Their dedication wasn’t about profit or fame – it was about survival and love for Taiwan. That was the moment I knew I had to tell their story.”

And if A Chip Odyssey makes one thing clear, it’s this: for Taiwan, semiconductors are not merely a matter of industrial dominance – they are a matter of survival.

Failure is not an option

Although success was never guaranteed for Taiwan’s early tech pioneers, failure was unthinkable. With U.S. economic aid, once equivalent to 6% of GDP, coming to an end, and the loss of its UN seat compounding economic pressures from inflation and soaring oil prices, Taiwan found itself at a crossroads.

Government leaders, aware of the vulnerability that came with lack of natural resources, made their expectations clear: the island’s future would rest on the shoulders of the engineers tasked with building an ICT industry from scratch.

“One industry pioneer cried when he remembered that pressure,” Hsiao says. “Even after 50 years, the memory he felt was raw. It made me realize how deeply their sense of responsibility was etched into their identity – not just to a company, but to Taiwan.”

Today Taiwan once again stands at a crossroads. U.S. President Donald Trump has renewed his push to reindustrialize America, threatening steep tariffs on semiconductor chips manufactured outside U.S. borders. At the same time, Beijing has intensified its military and political pressure on the island.

In this climate, some commentators have begun to question whether Taiwan’s so-called “silicon shield” – long viewed as its greatest strategic asset – might also be its Achilles’ heel. Escalating the challenge is a shrinking population and a dwindling talent pool, as more young professionals search for opportunities abroad.

There’s a Chinese proverb that goes, “Wealth does not pass three generations.” The first generation builds wealth; the second generation is inspired to preserve it; and the third generation, having never witnessed the work that went into the creation of this wealth, wastes it. I ask Hsiao whether she’s worried the same goes for Taiwan’s semiconductor sector.

“Of course I’m worried,” she replies. “We must not take this industry for granted. In 2024, semiconductors accounted for 24% of Taiwan’s GDP. In 2023, it was 18%. That’s a staggering share for a single sector. We have to face it – not ignore it.”

The industry, she notes, permeates every facet of Taiwanese society – from energy policy and workforce development to the island’s broader national strategy. “We made this film as a kind of civic homework, so people understand where we came from and how much was sacrificed. Without that understanding, how can we face future challenges?”

A call to remember

Hsiao’s motivation for spending five years creating this documentary is threefold. First, she looks to familiarize people more with the semiconductor industry. Second, she wants to convey the incredible grit and diligence of the people who enabled Taiwan’s economic miracle. Third, she hopes to help more people understand and care about Taiwan.

A major challenge of making A Chip Odyssey, Hsiao says, was trust.

“These people are CEOs of listed companies,” she says. “They have to be cautious. A lot of them are afraid of saying the wrong thing – especially when politics are involved.”

It helped that Hsiao was already a respected documentary filmmaker and a professor at National Tsing Hua University – a campus that had played a pivotal role in many of her subjects’ lives. Even so, earning their trust took time.

“Unlike previous documentaries where I could explore subjects’ personal lives, this one had limits,” Hsiao says. “But that distance also reflects how closely tied they are to their companies and to Taiwan’s national identity.”

When asked how A Chip Odyssey has been received, Hsiao shares several stories that stayed with her. One young man, preparing to study abroad, told her the film gave him the confidence to explain Taiwan to others. A father said it helped him finally have a meaningful conversation with his son. Elderly viewers remarked, “Of course we understand – it’s our era you’re talking about.” And engineers wrote to say it had reignited their passion for work.

“That’s the most rewarding part,” she says. “Seeing it resonate across generations.”

The film has also struck a rare political chord. Lawmakers from across the spectrum have attended screenings. “That surprised me,” Hsiao notes. “In Taiwan’s polarized environment, it’s rare for something to unite everyone.”

Still, not all the feedback has been positive. Some say the documentary glorifies the government, others that it idolizes certain individuals. “But that’s Taiwan – everything gets politicized,” Hsiao says. “My goal is simple – to help people understand the history, so they can make better decisions for the future.”

Interest from abroad has followed. Viewers have asked when the film will screen in the United States and whether they can assist in adding subtitles in German or French for more audiences. Several universities in the United States and Europe have reached out, and some Taiwanese embassies have expressed interest in hosting screenings.

“To those people I say, ‘just wait a little,’” Hsiao says with a laugh that carries a hint of exhaustion. “It only premiered in Taiwan on May 10, so we’re still early in the process. We have to coordinate carefully, especially to maintain eligibility for international festival premiere slots. We’re working on subtitles in multiple languages. I want this to be a tool for people to understand Taiwan – why we matter, how we got here, and where we’re going.”

Watching A Chip Odyssey, I found myself unexpectedly moved to tears. The quiet strength, conviction, and humanity of the individuals who built Taiwan’s semiconductor industry shine through in every frame. It is a film that transcends technical achievement, revealing the emotional and cultural weight carried by those who lived through this transformation. More than a documentary, it is a love letter to Taiwan – thoughtful, beautifully made, and deeply important.

For anyone with even a passing interest in Taiwan and the forces shaping the world’s most critical industry, it is essential viewing.