Dune: Part Two
When I completed Dune, I had a strange feeling of emptiness. Strangely enough, I’m talking about my impressions of Denis Villeneuve’s Dune Part 2 as well as Frank Herbert’s book. That may indicate that the well-loved science-fiction classic was faithfully adapted.
I’m feeling conflicted. There are spoilers below. Let’s begin with…
The Virtuous
The movie is quite beautiful. It’s one that you really should see in a theater with the greatest sound system possible, ideally on the largest screen you can find. There were moments when the seats shook. At times, the sheer amount of spectacle in this place might be a little overpowering. And everything is so expertly made. Arrakis feels real, and we see a lot more of it this time around, save from the absence of sweat, which is still strange for such a hot world.
Some of the best parts of the movie are the short, terrifying sequences on Giedi Prime’s home planet, Harkonnen. The combat in the arena with Feyd-Rautha (played by an albino Austin Butler trying to look like Stellan Skarsgard’s gravelly Baron Harkonnen) was largely colorless, which gave off an eerie feeling. It appears like infrared cameras were used to record this. Here, Greig Fraser, the cinematographer, does some absolutely amazing work. It’s very remarkable.
From the masked bodyguards in the arena with Feyd-Rautha to the Bene Gesserit in their veils, the film’s style is excellent, unique, and feels more developed than the first one. Whether in the verdant gardens of the Padishah Emperor or the deserts of Arrakis, costume and set design surpasses expectations, providing us with a fully realized, completely original, and immersive sense of place throughout the whole movie.
A lot of the fight situations were done skillfully as well. It was great fun, the Fremen ambushes on Harkonnen spice shipments. The fight between Feyd-Rautha and Paul (Timothée Chalamet) is savage yet swift.
It’s also good to see Rebecca Ferguson’s darker, more vicious Jessica (who puts her son in danger by completely embracing her Bene Gesserit calling) and Zendaya’s Chani (who has a larger part, though her character has changed significantly from the novel in reasons we’ll discuss later).
The comedic relief of Javier Bardem’s Stilgar is particularly noteworthy. Various Fremen sects respond differently to Paul’s unwillingness to acknowledge that he is the chosen one. More moderate/less fanatical Fremen distrust him, while fanatics believe he is the Mahdi. I’m paraphrasing when I say that Stilgar tells his fellow followers, “See, he is too humble to admit that he’s the Mahdi,” in response to Paul’s denials. More evidence that he is, there! It’s good to have these humorous intervals throughout the lengthy, largely somber film.
Most of the events in the book were presented accurately, and some of the modifications made sense. Perhaps some of the changes that didn’t make as much sense will make sense once we get to Part 3 (Dune Messiah). It’s a really potent experience as far as movies go—just on its own terms, not as an adaptation. It’s probably as good of an adaptation as we could hope for, although there are a few alterations that I found objectionable and confusing. Now let’s move on to…
As he grows to know the Fremen, Chani is given a more prominent role, but one that is also weirdly antagonistic with Paul. He first assumes the role of Muad’dib before completely accepting his duty as the anticipated Lisan al Gaib / Mahdi, also known as the Kwisatz Haderach in Bene Gesserit history. This prophecy has been sown for hundreds of years by that female-led order of mind-controlling witches, who have spent countless generations trying to breed the Kwisatz Haderach into existence before finally succeeding with Paul (because Jessica defied the order and gave birth to a girl).
Regardless, Chani is furious about Paul’s change in the movie and runs off when he accepts Princess Irulan’s hand in marriage—something that would not have affected Chani in the slightest in the book. Though I don’t really care, it was strange and handled clumsily when it came to her telling Paul she would always be there for him and not really understanding what was bothering her so much. Just one of the numerous minor nuances that baffled me. While the film stays true to many of the book’s main plot points, it deviates from others.
And it pretty much kept intact one of the things I had thought it would change the most. About it, more in a moment.
Certain characters are absent, such as the intriguing and menacing Count Fenring, whose wife Margot (Léa Seydoux) seduces Feyd-Rautha in order to impregnate him covertly and bear his child. (Although Herbert’s order is the most menacing and terrible of them all, the more I consider the Bene Gesserit, the more I notice how much they impacted not only the Jedi in Star Wars but also the Aes Sedai in The Wheel of Time and even the sorceresses in The Witcher books).
Additionally, I’m not sure that I like that there isn’t a time jump. Before stepping up to lead them, Paul seems to have spent several months with the Fremen here (less than nine, considering Alia’s Kubrickian fetal condition). It seems a bit odd when they board the Imperial ships to launch jihad—er, “holy war”—against the Great Houses; after all, why not just take control of the spice and try to turn your world into a paradise?
Since Paul and Chani are childless, the Imperial Sardaukar does not take Little Leto II from them. He recovers from the Water of Life in a few weeks less time. I find this hurried attitude to the timeframe to be strange. His leadership over the Fremen would be more credible if he spent more time with them, learning their secrets and imparting the “weirding ways.” It moves along quite quickly for such a long film. They certainly make an effort to address the whole “white savior” cliché, but perhaps they ought to have stopped there. The outcomes are, at most, mediocre.
Although it mostly worked and avoided the difficulties of dealing with a very young child actor to portray a very difficult role, I’m still a little uncomfortable about Alia staying in Jessica’s womb throughout the movie. Though I loved his line, “You die like an animal,” Paul’s execution of Baron Harkonnen with the gom jabbar simply doesn’t have the same impact as Alia’s.
Paul’s persona also causes me some internal turmoil. His prescience is really just one dream repeated, and we witness very little of his Mentat training (or any Mentats at all, as Thufir Hawat is MIA). I believe we should have seen more of his reaction to the spice, his unique qualities, and other things. We only get to witness how his powers have truly come into their own once, towards the very end, when he uses the Bene Gesserit Voice on the Reverend Mother.
It’s true that my opinion of Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack is a tad mixed. It’s not really memorable, even though it’s more than capable—the music and sound design both give the movie a sense of rumbling urgency. In twenty years, no one will be humming the theme song from Dune. That’s not really a major concern, but I didn’t feel really affected by the music at any point. Maybe this has more to do with the narrative than the music. Even with all of its enormous scope and many outstanding performances, I wasn’t particularly touched by any of it. On an emotional level, I was not persuaded. This is a story about revenge, but it is a very weak one.
And the emptiness I mentioned earlier was, for the most part, how I felt when I left the theater. This film was astounding, breathtaking, yet strangely devoid of emotion.
However, the same might be said of the novel, which is strange, multi-layered, and mostly focused on the plot rather than the characters. And that gets us to…
The conclusion of Herbert’s book is where I have the most issues. It happens quite suddenly. Much of the major action takes place off-screen, including a huge battle involving the Fremen, Harkonnen, and Imperial soldiers. Though the good men prevail and the bad guys are defeated, it all sort of comes together quickly, and I never really thought Duke Leto was fairly vindicated. It never really clicked with me, and I reasoned that perhaps in this movie version, it would.
However, the last battle also seems hurried. It’s almost comical how quickly the good people dispatch the Harkonnen army and this purportedly extremely skilled Sardaukar. It seems rather anticlimactic, but I guess that’s how the entire book feels. Perhaps that might have been rewritten and expanded upon in that section of the book!
The elite Imperial army and the huge and powerful House Harkonnen descend in warships to put an end to Paul’s Fremen insurrection, which is being led by an inexperienced teenager and a group of fierce fighters who are outmatched and technologically inferior. That fight seems like it will be quite difficult!
“It will actually be very simple, hardly an inconvenience.”
The last bout between Feyd-Rautha and Paul was excellent, however I’m not sure I agree that the former is being viewed as a more valiant fighter this time around. Alternatively said, I don’t think the movie understands what it’s doing with the character. He nearly appears unimportant, doesn’t he?
Feyd-Rautha is a murderer who is violent and deranged. In the book, he attempts to poison Paul—definitely evoking Hamlet—but ultimately loses. Just as he did with the Atreides prisoner he kills in the arena earlier in the movie, he says, “Well fought, Atreides,” here. Is Feyd-Rautha, the custodian of cannibalistic consorts, likewise to be regarded as honorable? Perhaps he’s just misinterpreting! It’s strange that they treat him with that level of intricacy while the Harkonnens are viewed as the most ridiculous, mustache-wielding villains possible in every other aspect.
Although I adore the way they depict Baron Harkonnen and the Harkonnen people in general, it begins to feel more like cartoon villains than a complex and aspirational ancient House when an underling gets their throat cut or their head bashed in for no apparent reason at all. Imagine a version of Game of Thrones if all of the villains were always Ramsay Snow. Furthermore, Feyd-Rautha and Paul’s absence of a relationship of any kind makes their final confrontation feel impersonal. It simply kind of occurs, just like the rest of the ending.
Regarding casting, one of my main criticisms of both movies—that is, there are too many famous people—will be the subject of a whole other piece. I believe that the movies would have benefitted from using lesser-known actors. I nearly laughed out loud when Paul saw his vision of an older Alia, played in the tiniest of cameos by Anya Taylor-Joy (which, incidentally, we had just seen in the very awful trailer for Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga before the film began, and oh, we also saw Butler in a trailer for The Bikeriders, which looks pretty good—you’re bound to see a celebrity or two in the trailers).
However, for the time being, I only want to draw attention to Christopher Walken’s casting as Emperor Shaddam IV. I adore Walken, especially after seeing Severance. He excels in a wide range of areas. However, he is a complete misfit for this position. Walken is a national treasure, and he always looks great in even the smallest parts—in Annie Hall, Pulp Fiction, True Romance, and so on. Not that he’s horrible here either; he’s just not the right pick for Dune. Since Nicole Kidman’s performance in The Northman (the Hamlet-related films starring Anya Taylor-Joy and a Skarsgard), I haven’t felt this strongly about a casting SNAFU.
I can only assume that the major revelation regarding the spice melange, the Navigators, and the Spacing Guild was omitted in order for it to be mentioned in the third movie, which is now pretty much a given. Nevertheless, I found it very startling because that is one of the book’s most significant sections, explaining why Arrakis and its main export are so essential to the Great Houses of the Landsraad, the Empire, and the Spacing Guild. Really peculiar. By the end of the movie, I was completely expecting to see a Navigator. I did not anticipate that the Fremen would all board ships at once and immediately depart for battle.
Lastly, given that this is the second installment of what will hopefully be a trilogy, two hours and forty-six minutes is far too long. I apologize. Even though I say it all the time, not many movies are worth their lengthy runs. Dune Part 2 included a lot of amazing moments, but many more could have been omitted. Even though the novel isn’t very long, we manage to tell it in two full movies. The key to wit is brevity.
All things considered, even though it’s not flawless, this adaptation of Dune—which has been unsuccessful on multiple occasions—was about as fantastic as you could wish for. One of the more captivating directors working today is Villeneuve, and he and his whole crew did a fantastic job delivering this space opera—or is it a spice opera?—to the big screen.
Though I still find it hard to get over my conflicting emotions and the impression that everything ended too quickly, I highly suggest seeing it in cinemas. The previous film’s spectacular scope and imagery are amplified in this sequel. It’s really amazing to see. Even if there was no conversation throughout, the sight alone would make it worth seeing. Even if the plot isn’t as compelling, it’s visually superior to Part 1 in many aspects, and my objections aren’t really significant. Really, the only thing I would add?
