Here we have a followup to another solid scifi outing from Denis Villeneuve—after the setup we had in the first part of the second major adaptation of the Frank Herbert classic, there was still a payoff and a real excursion into the meat of the story to follow. Does it all come together, or does fear prove the mind-killer in the end after all?
Thankfully, for the most part, it’s a solid second instalment, perhaps less straightforward yet also more interesting than the first. Weird as it might seem to some readers, there is much to unpack with the novel. As this film also explores, between themes of religion, political power, we had what many now would consider to be a deconstruction of ‘white saviour narratives’—Herbert didn’t necessarily intend it that way, or not in those terms at any rate, but it would also seem apparent to many now, and it’s definitely something this one leans into. Glimmers of other topics he went into, like oppressed becoming oppressors, are also glimpsed here—but perhaps we’re getting too far ahead.
We follow up on our lost scion of a fallen great house, Paul Atreides (Timothee Chalamet) stuck on the lynchpin desert world of Arrakis with his mother-turned-psychic-priestess Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), both taken in by the local tribes of the Fremen, whose culture is more expansive than the rest of the galactic feudal Imperium has assumed. Paul remains uncomfortable with his seeming place in a religious prophecy that may not be as divine as it seems—with Fremen chief Stilgar (Javier Bardem) seeing him as messiah, others as fraud, while Paul’s own romantic partner and co-star Chani (Zendaya) seeing him as something in the middle, or something else as the story goes on.
This one definitely leans into the mystical and the esoteric side of things, which the Dune books also did the more they went on. Amusing as some parts are earlier on that seem to lean almost into Life of Brian, I was happy to see that Villeneuve captures one key aspect of the story that Lynch didn’t, namely the ambiguity around Paul as he begins to enter his role as a possible dark messiah, or an ambitious one anyway. Trying to evade destiny and his own precognition (represented here by some visions that get repeated perhaps one time too many in one of the weaker aspects)…these are all things that add those much needed layers of complexity here.
But of course it is also Chani’s story here, with her character being not quite as on with Paul as she is in the book. Indeed, here she’s basically our viewpoint character—and it’s her emotions between an escalating conflict with our House Harkonnen villains and eventually the wider Imperium that give us the relatability we need through all the talk about visions and psychic spice drugs.
Speaking of bad guys, those are also a highlight here—between Stellan Skarsgard returning as growling potentate Baron Harkonnen, we’re also introduced to our younger-faced maniac Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler), introduced in a visually amazing gladiatorial battle set under the black and white light of an infra-red sun, complete with fireworks exploding as inkblots. It may be somewhat superfluous to the wider plot, but it’s memorable as all hell.
Indeed, as before, the visuals are incredible here—it just goes to show how proper staging, scale, and care makes all the difference, compared to the cheap CGI flurrying of other films. Even sand flowing over the, well, dunes of Arrakis seems to carry its own graceful beauty—and that’s before we get into key scenes like the saddling of giant desert worms or climactic battles complete with atomic demolition. Villeneuve does like himself some brutalist sensibilities, but those do play into his vistas of colossal structures, HR Giger-inspired giant harvesting machinery, or colossal imperial starships.
Perhaps, in a story as complex as this—even spread out over two films—there are some compromises. We have Christopher Walken as Emperor of the Known Universe being the political manipulator soon in over his head—an inspired choice (walk without rhythm and it won’t attract the worm, indeed), but perhaps he could’ve had just a seen more. Another player is Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh), who in the book introduces each chapter and serves here as an occasional narrator, who has more of an arc, but maybe one that could’ve also seen a notch more balance).
Either way, the key notes are for the most part well done, with it all coming down to that note of ambiguity that was a staple of the original Dune, where we’re deliberately left to question who’s on there right and what the costs must really be. They could’ve gone for a typical Hollywood triumphant note as the 1984 film did—but sticking to the essence of the source makes for something more interesting, something I fully commend here.
Villeneuve is determined to give us one more film adapting the second book, Dune Messiah—a good choice, as it rounds out the story started here well enough. Let’s just say as the books went on, the acid Herbert may or may not have been taking felt more apparent. But at least as a two-parter, what we have is a solid enough piece that’s gorgeous to look at and provokes some thinking with the themes it grapples with—where others could’ve just pleased the crowd, there’s no doubting the sincerity here. All in all, definitely a solid big-budget piece to highlight 2024 so far from me.
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