Expansive sand dunes reaching as far as the eye can see in every direction, with the blistering heat from twin suns bearing down relentlessly on an unforgiving desert world. No, we’re not describing Tatooine, but you can certainly see where George Lucas drew inspiration. Villeneuve’s recreation of Frank Herbert’s Arrakis stands in stark contrast to the wet, overcast home-world of House Atreides’ Caladan, and serves as the primary setting for the latest attempt to bring the hugely influential sprawling 1965 space epic, Dune, to the big screen. David Lynch’s 1984 Dune failed to meet expectations, though has found cult status in recent years, and there have been televised adaptations, comic books, and more books following in the wake of the 1965 classic. Alongside a sadly unrealised, if rather commendably ambitious proposal by Jodorwosky for a 14-hour feature. Known for the likes of Blade Runner 2049 (2017), does Denis Villeneuve’s mighty epic make the cut, or is it, too, duned to fail?
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings obliteration.”
The Bene Gesserit mantra, repeated by Paul and Jessica
Bridging familiar science fiction, hero’s journey, and mystical overtones, Dune is set in the not so distant future of 10,191, where the Duke Leto of House Atreides has been commanded by the Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV to replace House Harkonnen as fief rulers of the titular desert world. Serving as the universes sole source of the multifunctional “spice” – a substance used to prolong human life, cause mutations, wild hallucinations, and vital for interstellar travel, as well as add a little flavour to bland curries – Dune, also known as Arrakis, is deceptively valuable and brimming with profitable possibilities. Though it is also a planet thwart with dangers, from its unrelenting heat, lack of water, and an unfolding political conspiracy that threatens the stability of the Empire from within. Not to mention sand dunes…
Villeneuve demonstrates a level of intricacy in every shot, whether its giant ships looming eerily in the empty void of space, echoing the hauntingly isolated tension of Ridley Scott’s Alien, to highly detailed backdrops and contrasting locales. The result is a piece of science fiction cinema that drips with style and beautiful visuals that elevate some of its more thought provoking and complex thematic ideas, while long dialogue moments are broken up with gorgeous establishing shots, dramatic music cues and limited action sequences that foreshadow events of the upcoming Part II.
There are clear parallels to modern colonisation on the titular Dune, where the desert world is home not only to the indigenous Freman, but a hallucinogenic substance called “spice”. Harvested by off-worlders for massive profits and used for interstellar travel, Arrakis was ruled over by the Harkonnens for decades before the Emperor saw fit to have it placed as a fief under the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen’s rival, Duke Leto Atreides. The Middle Eastern influences over Arrakis are prominently conveyed, as they were in the original novel, with emphasis placed on religious and spiritual culture, architecture and visual cues that may seem recognisable to real-world iconography. Even the Freman language from Herbert’s original novel echoed some Arabic influences. As such, the overseeing imperial forces – whether they are Harkonnen or Atreides – as reflections of Western powers in Middle Eastern provinces don’t go unnoticed.
“Arrakis is Arrakis, and the desert takes the weak. My desert. My Arrakis. My Dune.”
Baron Vladimir Harkonnen
Dune might be a sprawling space epic, but the first half takes time setting up the contentious political discourse between the houses of the Empire, perhaps bringing a political tension that some might see as akin to Game of Thrones. The pacing therefore is a little slower and more methodical than the frantic montage that made up David Lynch’s 1984 Dune, lingering on setting up its sci-fi ideas at a pace that allows us as an audience to experience and understand them at the same time as our protagonist, Paul. Lynch’s Dune, meanwhile, could be criticised, among other things, for throwing nonsensical and immersion breaking visuals and jargon at a jarring pace. That is to say, despite its slower pacing marking the latest Dune adaptation as a set-up feature for later entries, its methodical approach crafts a rich lived-in universe that isn’t marred by being overly designed or overly sci-fi in a way that has dated Dune 1984.
One of the strengths of 2021s Dune comes from its stunning visuals, bringing the universe of the book to life in a way that seems familiar in a cinematic landscape that has seen science fiction films continue to demonstrate Frank Herbert’s influence. From massive monolithic ships to the cavernous dwellings of Arrakis, tight-formfitting Stillsuits, to massive kaiju Sandworms, to say nothing of the incredible scenery, Dune boasts some incredible design work that recalls everything from H.R. Giger to Moebius, begging us to question what Jodorowsky’s original project may have looked like.
When we are introduced to Paul and House Atreides on their home-world Caladan, we are met with greenery, high seas, overcast skies, and strong winds. A house of drab funerary colours, sombre atmosphere, yet poignantly feudal and respectful in their formal, regal dress. On the other hand, the Harkonnen home-world, ruled over by the gluttonous Baron, screams a Geiger nightmare with its gothic blacks and haunting whites. It’s cold and fittingly oppressive in an austere Alien way. Coincidentally, Giger would have originally designed the great Harkonnen home-world for the Jodorowsky movie. Visuals in this sense play with style and colour in a way that heightens the narrative and tonal elements of the script and atmosphere, while offering some truly stunning visuals that demand a full IMAX experience.
“You fight when the necessity arises, no matter the mood.”
An angry Gurney Halleck to Paul
Accompanying these astonishing establishing shots is a rousing score from Hans Zimmer that brings heavy rhythmic patterns with vocal lines that enhance the Middle-Eastern inspired location of Arrakis, elevating it with an otherworldliness. “Paul’s Dream” in particular climbs to dramatic crescendoes with overdubbed guitar lines, while heavy vocal wails further stress the epic scale of Paul’s destiny as the Muad’Dib. It is as operatic in scale as it is surprisingly rock heavy.
Yet another success over 1984s Dune, we are presented with a more multicultural cast than Lynch’s largely caucasian, as well as talents from the ironically aquatic superhero, Jason Momoa, as the laddish larger than life hero Duncan Idaho, Rebecca Ferguson’s Lady Jessica – a member of the mystical Bene Gesserit – as well as the solemn leader of House Atreides, Duke Leto Atreides, by Oscar Isaac. Taking the lead, however, as the budding hero in the making, is Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atriedes, plagued by prophetic dreams of Arrakis that glamorously show-off Zendaya’s Chani. He’s less Luke Skywalker than Kyle MacLachlan’s post-RotJ version, and more introverted, contemplative and introspective. Though despite having been the focal point for so much of the films promotional material, Zendaya’s screen-time is extremely limited, clearly playing a bigger role in the sequel.
Standing in opposition to Leto Atriedes is Stellan Skarsgård’s Baron Valdimir Harkonnen, who thankfully ditches the paedophilic, homophobic traits from Lynch’s 1984 adaptation, and replaces his boisterous, cartoonish villainy for something colder and more calculating – thus more threatening. It’s a cast of prominent actors familiar to many and for good reason.
“My road leads into the desert.”
Paul Atreides: Set up for Part II?
In a unique twist, there is something unavoidably, deceptively derivative about Dune that requires us to remember that the source material from which Villeneuve’s cinema attempts to adapt has been a key influence in near every major on-screen sci-fi from Star Wars to Alien. The mysticism and spiritual narrative might recall the great Jedi destiny or the Chosen One prophesy in Star Wars, but where did George Lucas and many of his other great science fiction contemporaries draw influence from?
Thankfully this is hardly something that overshadows Villeneuve’s dramatic scenery, poignant dialogue, or skilfully crafted starships and costume design. If anything, it’s a reminder where it all came from, and what we are left with is the making of an epic sci-fi saga that seems to succeed in the places where Lynch didn’t. As such, it will be interesting to see if he can continue the momentum and live up to the expectations with its sequel, where even the likes of Marvel’s End Game struggled to follow the immensity and emotional hurt of Infinity War.
