“Dune: Part Two” unites blockbuster scale with the singular vision of a master
Directed by Denis Villeneuve
Screenplay by Denis Villeneuve and Jon Spaihts
Based on Dune by Frank Herbert
Starring Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Josh Brolin, Austin Butler, Florence Pugh, Dave Bautista, Christopher Walken, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Léa Seydoux, Souheila Yacoub, Stellan Skarsgård, Charlotte Rampling, and Javier Bardem
It is going to be difficult when discussing Dune: Part Two to avoid falling into hyperbole, but the truth itself is hyperbolic. It’s a blockbuster that dwarfs its already formidable predecessor in every way and stands entirely apart from its counterparts, one of the most magnificent cinematic experiences of its kind in perhaps twenty years. Director Denis Villeneuve (Arrival) translates the second half of the novel to the screen in all its glory in soul if not in letter, enhancing the material while bringing those elements that have spoken to readers for over half a century to the surface. It’s a true masterpiece, nauseating in its themes and staggering in its production.
Everything that worked about the original is present and enhanced. The close-ups Villeneuve and cinematographer Greig Fraser (The Creator) use to capture the nuances of the cast’s performances – from the glimpses of humanity beneath Jessica’s (Rebecca Ferguson, Mission: Impossible- Dead Reckoning) implacable façade to Chani’s (Zendaya, Spider-Man: No Way Home) horror at watching the man she’s falling for become someone she doesn’t recognize – are as breathtaking as the wide shots that show off the arresting vistas of Arrakis. The entire width and depth of the frame is put to use in a way that recalls classic Cinemascope westerns more than it does Dune: Part Two’s big budget contemporaries. Even those bored by Part One’s measured pace will find themselves enthralled by the action here, as well. This is a longer movie than the first, but it’s faster, and when the knives come out, Villeneuve lets loose a diverse array of set pieces that never lose sight of their characters amid the chaos. His use of tracking shots trounces that of his peers, even the most experienced of whom sometimes fall into the trap of feeling perfunctory in their flourishes. Instead, their use here allows for an appreciation of the exquisite choreography and physical demands that were placed upon the cast and stunt ensemble that they more than rose to meet.
Meanwhile, the production design (which won an Academy Award in the first film) is given the task of developing not just the world of the Fremen but that of the Harkonnens as well, and it’s here where Dune truly embraces the overwhelming strangeness of Frank Herbert’s novel. Every inch of the design here reinforces the inhumanity, the alienness of the series antagonists, from their ships and spice crawlers to their costumes and the absolutely skin-crawling creatures that they keep around. It feels like Villeneuve and co. saw the reaction to the spider creature that appeared in a single shot of Part One and decided to give their audience more of what they wanted. It’s Star Wars by way of H.R. Giger, and it rules. Even the sun on their homeworld drains the color from everything it touches; their fireworks are mere inkblots against a grey sky, a bit of visual invention so ingenious it nearly warrants applause all its own. This contrasts, of course, with the earth tones and spirituality of the Fremen and helps to signify the corrupting influence that is posed by these off-worlders. Far from the sharp edges that we have been trained to associate with evil by years of sci-fi and fantasy (think Star Destroyers, devil horns, etc.), the villains here are painted as strangely organic in their design, even at their most technological, representing a perversion of life itself on a planet whose ecosystem is its identity.
That union of layered theme with bombastic production is key to what makes Villeneuve’s latest so special. Like its source material, Dune: Part Two tells a story about the trap posed by power, the dichotomy between wielding immense gifts yet being forced in a direction that terrifies you. Each of the leads see themselves in some way as unable to fight what fate has laid out for them, and some of them actually are; Florence Pugh’s (Oppenheimer) wardrobe more and more resembles a cage the longer the runtime wears on and provides a visual metaphor for an Empress-to-be whose life is not her own. Villeneuve has no illusions about power being exclusively a burden, however. Those with it may face hardship, but it is a far different breed than that faced by those without. It’s the difference between being left to burn to death and made to genuflect before your enemy. The people on top may not be entirely free, but in Dune as in our own world, they are largely free from legitimate consequence.
That isn’t to say the film believes that those on the bottom of the galactic hierachy are doomed to live passively under their rulers, and indeed, Dune: Part Two is clear-eyed about the capabilities of those who reside in the shadows as either puppeteers like the Bene Gesserit or an underestimated population like the Fremen. People disparaged as “rats” can bring down an empire just as ants can consume a corpse. These groups are still vulnerable to manipulation, though, and this being a Dune adaptation, that manipulation comes mainly in the form of messianic prophecies and unquestioning worship. In pursuit of this idea, Part Two sometimes begins to resemble The Life of Brian, as in a scene where Stilgar (Javier Bardem, The Little Mermaid) argues that the humility Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet, Wonka) shows when he argues he is not the Fremen’s prophesied savior is only further proof that he must be.
The critique isn’t restrained to religion however, though that is perhaps its most common strain. The chorus of the fundamentalist Fremen is mirrored across the galaxy, in the chants of the Mentats (humans who act as living computers) used to plan the conquest of Arrakis and in the cheers that greet a psychotic gladiator as he enters a colosseum. We see it in the men who waste the precious moments immediately following an ambush raising a flag and in Gurney Halleck’s (Josh Brolin, Flag Day) dedication to the memory of his late Duke. No matter how noble the cause, everyone on Arrakis has made themselves a slave to something, and there are those who are ready and willing to use that to their advantage. It would be a mistake to call Dune: Part Two straightforwardly antireligious because of this. Zealotry can just as easily be wholehearted devotion to one’s technological prowess, to a celebrity who symbolizes your culture’s strength, to a government, or to a departed friend as it can be a religious prophecy. The solution isn’t to believe in nothing, because the most righteous characters Dune has to offer are loyal to a cause even if it’s just the people around them. It instead advocates for vigilance.
Funnily enough, this message went over the heads of many readers upon publication of the original novel, necessitating the controversial first sequel, Dune Messiah, which Herbert used to make clear that his story was far darker than a typical hero’s journey. It’s hard to imagine anyone making that mistake with Villeneuve’s adaptation. Part of this can be credited to the eerie makeup, which slowly brings the inner darkness of supposedly morally upright characters to the surface. Most of it, however, is due to the centering of Chani in the film’s narrative. It is without a doubt the performance of Zendaya’s career; she makes Chani the emotional core of Dune: Part Two and often accomplishes it with little more than a glance. This is Paul’s story and takes place from his perspective, but we’re also invited to see things through Chani’s eyes, to gaze helpless at the dying of a culture, its appropriation and subjugation for the sake of the powerful who would bend it to their will. The scene where this violation is made personal ranks as perhaps the most sobering moment in an overall sobering film.
Because for all the sweeping scale and soaring instrumentals, for all the sympathy we feel for these deeply flawed people, despite its touching romance and familiar iconography, Dune isn’t Star Wars. Paul Atreides isn’t Luke Skywalker; he’s Anakin wrestling with becoming Darth Vader for a shot at revenge. It is, once again, a story about the powerful exerting their will over the powerless, of an entire planet forced into a false choice between the lesser of two evils, a choice that we too are implicated in. Like the characters, we bear witness to barbarism and take a side even if the side we take is no less barbaric, it just comes clad in a more handsome face. Put differently, a woman who vomits at the sight of bodies might smile at the outset of a holy war. A psychopath who whispers is just as dangerous as a psychopath who screams.
A film with this much to say on its own is special. It’s a joy to watch anything that wants you to think as much as Dune does. It’s when you marry that ingenuity to a production that is firing on all cylinders, master craftsmen gifted with a gargantuan budget and allowed to work their magic with what feels like free rein, that it enters rarified company indeed: Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings, Blade Runner 2049, Matt Reeves’s Planet of the Apes. It can’t all be laid at Villeneuve’s feet, but there’s a sense in watching Dune: Part Two of a single hand guiding things, ensuring even the most minor elements are working in concert with each other. It’s thanks to this vision that the finished work stands shoulder to shoulder not just with the giants of its own medium but as the definitive adaptation of a classic and a future classic in its own right.
Rating: A+
Dune: Part Two is now playing in theaters.
