I really can’t state enough how much this blog post is a rambly mess. With a level of obsessiveness that might appeal to science fiction fans, at least, even if you ultimately disagree with me. Basically, if I was to categorize my relationship to the Dune franchise with a gif, I’d use this one. 😛
Warning for spoilers: my review isn’t going to stay within the parameters of the movie. I’ve read the first three books, plus done some research into Frank Herbert, and I’m here to talk about “the big picture,” such as I understand it.
With that in mind, maybe I should start first with my take on the source material.
An Overview of the Dune Book Series
A few months ago, when sharing a trailer for the 2021 movie, I wrote about my relationship to the 1960s science fiction classic, Dune. Brief recap: I heard about the series when the SciFi Channel made their two miniserieses, and then I read the three books thus adapted: Dune, Dune Messiah and Children of Dune, written by Frank Herbert. This was all 20 years ago.
Dune is a far-future story about a feudal empire that has done away with thinking machines, and now uses drugs (or spice) and conditioning to turn humans into superhumans. I’ve just made it sound like a comic book, and in fact there have been comic adaptations made! But the scope of the original Dune books is far more philosophical and maximist, I’d say. I’ll get to differences regarding superheroes in a bit.
This is a space-faring society, and without machines such travel is monopolized by the Spacing Guild. Their navigators, humans but much altered by their copious use of spice, are able to bend space time. Spice can only be found on the planet, Arrakis, so of course the noble family that controls Arrakis has access to immense wealth and power.
The story opens when the emperor decides to take Arrakis from House Harkonnen and give it to House Atreides. On the surface, this looks like the Atreides star is rising, but in truth this is a ploy from the Emperor and House Harkonnen, fueled by jealousy and an age-old feud respectively, to take down House Atreides. Duke Leto is killed, and his son Paul and concubine Jessica are driven into the desert. From there, Paul’s story takes on a superhero vibe, as he uses physical and psychic tricks taught to him by his mother (plus religious propaganda that was long planted by his mother’s organization, the Bene Gesserit,) to essentially become the messiah of the native population, the MENA-inspired Fremen. Paul, now Paul “Maud’Dib,” then leads a jihad in order to decimate House Harkonnen, overthrow the emperor, and free the Fremen, well, at least from those oppressors.
So, pretty much your stereotypical hero’s journey bildungsroman, which was so obviously a template for Star Wars that Herbert got mad about it. 😛 Except that in book two, Dune Messiah, the author turns things on their head. It’s 12 years after Paul “Maud’Dib”’s victory; he’s now a dictatorial emperor in his own right…oh, and his followers are responsible for the deaths of 60 billion people.
And from there, Herbert’s message gets a bit convoluted. He’s stated that Paul is a cautionary tale about the dangers of following a Great Man messiah figure like Lawrence of Arabia (another colonizer in his own right who nevertheless became a leader in a struggle of an indigenous desert people against an occupying force.) But it also kind of seems like he thinks, or at least his art thinks, that massive violence is essential for human survival as a species anyway. I guess you’re just supposed to believe your leader is a monster for doing this so-called necessary thing, like Ozymandias in the Watchmen comics. Man, I can’t seem to stay away from comics references. 😛
Since I’m embarking on full-on nerd territory, I thought I’d break this blog post down further, first discussing my opinions on the books, and then my opinions on the Dennis Villeneuve film.
My Thoughts on the Books
One thing I won’t discuss in much detail is the obvious Middle Eastern, North African and especially Islamic influences on this series. From my understanding, Herbert’s worldbuilding is seen as generally nuanced and empathetic—not something you’d expect to hear about a conservative white guy from the 1960s! 😛 But for more detailed analysis from sources educated in this subject, check out Haris Durrani on Tor.
What first drew me into this story, and what continues to draw me into the first book, is Paul and Jessica’s relationship. Back in 2000, I was viewing this from a largely cultural angle. Dune is predominately patriarchal; and Jessica isn’t even a lady, she’s a concubine. How does this affect relationships, when one’s son, someone you gestated inside your own body, is automatically seen as superior to you? Extra points for Paul being a surly, 15-year-old teenager. Never mind that he also fashions himself as a friggen messiah. 😛
Of course, Paul had help in the “messiah” regard, not only from the Bene Gesserit but from Jessica herself. It was she who decided to give her lover a son rather than a daughter as she was bid to by the Bene Gesserit. But I’ll discuss that in more detail in the movie section.
Right now, I want to transition to the Bene Gesserit. They’re a powerful, female organization, ostensibly around to aid the empire, but they have their own aims as well. Namely, a thousands-years long breeding program to try and bring a male savior, the Kwisatz Haderach, to power. The difference between this one male savior vs the scores of solely female proteges that the Bene Gesserit have trained is that only Male Savior can access memories from both male and female ancestors. Over on the new BookRiot podcast, Adaptation Nation, the hosts posit that the Kwisatz Haderach is in essence non-binary. I’m a little less metaphorical in my interpretation; I think the Kwisatz Haderach is male because Herbert, and the prevailing culture of his time, couldn’t perceive of a woman being the most powerful person in the galaxy, even when the organization that spawned such a person is is entirely female.
That’s not even my biggest beef about the Bene Gesserit. Part of their secret plan to prepare the galaxy for the Kwisatz Haderach is to interject various cultures with messiah myths. That’s why it is so easy for Paul to press the Fremen on Arrakis into his service; the Bene Gesserit have planted the seed. I have great reservations about all of this, from the infantilization of the Fremen (I get that specific cultures are influenced by those outside of the cultural group—and that cultural groups themselves aren’t static either—but this is wholescale propaganda, aimed at a people who are distrustful of outsiders, no less,) to the cabal aspect. For centuries, my own people have been dogged by conspiracy theories that we comprise a global cabal aimed at controlling and oppressing innocent gentiles. It’s been the basis for large-scale persecution and genocide of my ancestors, so I’m giving it major side-eye as a worldbuilding device.
…I wouldn’t say that Herbert meant for the Bene Gesserit to be an antisemitic staple. Apparently, he was much more direct regarding antisemitic overtones in book six. Again, I’ve only read the first three.
Regarding a set of villains whom everyone takes to be the bad guys, let’s discuss Baron Harkonnen and his ilk. Baron Harkonnen is basically the classic, mustache twirling uber-villain. He has as much character depth as you can find on the back of a matchbox. And the real way you know he’s a villain is due to his unrelated attributes. Baron Harkonnen (and his dim-witted nephew, Rabban,) are both grotesquely overweight. And on top of that, the Baron is gay. I think most Dune fans today would agree with me that this level of narrative xenophobia detracts from all of the other broader themes and complications of Herbert’s magnum opus.
And I do appreciate some of those complications. Particularly when it comes to questioning the Great Man myth. Here’s Paul, who is prescient enough to realize that he has the right set of circumstances at hand, not the least of which is fitting nicely into a pre-established messiah narrative, to start a holy war. It freaks him out, at least a little bit. And yet his desire for revenge on the people who murdered his father trumps all of that. So he goes along with it, and by the end of the first book he’s defeated the evil Harkonnens and the evil empire.
At the beginning of the second book, the sixty billion people have already been killed. Which feels like a bit of a cop out to me. We can’t connect on a visceral level with any of the devastation if it all happens off of the page. Though maybe this hearkens back to Herbert’s era. All these classical science fiction authors who are more interested in philosophy than in human emotion.
That being written, I was drawn into books two and three, even more than book one, due to the soap opera elements. 😛 I can admit it! I do grasp that Herbert wanted to explore ecological concerns with regards to the treatment of the desert planet. And research into the fandom makes me appreciate all the worldbuilding he did with regards to human beings taking over the role of machines: how and why. But I was reading for Paul’s sister, Alia, going mad; and his son, Leto II, coming close.
In general, I feel less sympathetic to the story in retrospect. Probably some of that is unfair. The fact, say, that I’m so devastated by Paul’s sister’s fate speaks to a strength of character. But if anything, I’m even more cynical about Leto II and the Golden Path. It feels like it turns the message of Dune on its head—again. Apparently there is a Great Man figure who can indeed save all of humanity—I guess the catch is that he gives up his humanity and becomes a sand worm god who lives for the next 3500 years. But same difference, really, with regards to one mind (man or god) claiming monopolies, regulating breeding, and ruling the galaxy with “totalitarian, ultimate theocratic tyranny.” The best we can hope for, Herbert seems to be telling us, is to be controlled, and miserably so.
There’s a lot to extrapolate from there, but instead of going further down this rabbit hole, I present my thoughts on the movie!
My Thoughts on the Movie
I liked it, overall! It definitely succeeds at being a spectacle. I watched the thing on IMAX, and wow.
I didn’t find the visuals to be too dark or the score (by the talented Hans Zimmer) to be too overwhelming. But I could see the possibility of non-book fans not getting too much out of this movie.
For a two-and-a-half-hour long timeline, it didn’t feel like much about this world was introduced. Granted, Villeneuve didn’t want to hold our hand or be exposition heavy. But the mythos of Dune is just too alien on its own.
There’s something mechanical about the middle of the movie, too, the part where the Atreides family settles onto Arrakis, as it were. I felt like we were painting by the numbers with Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) inching forward in succeeding on the desert planet—before the bad guys take him down. This is the part that I thought could have used a little bit more soul.
So, the movie opens with Chani (Zendaya) giving a voiceover, rather than Princess Irulan quoting from one of her future books of history. This certainly shifts the perspective—from the imperial mindset of the princess to the indigenous mindset of Chani. Surely, the original work didn’t lean so heavily on the words “colonize” and “oppressors.”
I also wondered if this change might usher in a bigger one—that in effect, there would be no Princess Irulan in the movie franchise. This is something that could be used to modernize and humanize Paul; he marries his lover, Chani, rather than someone else. I kind of assumed this to be the case as I was watching the movie, until I got to the scene where Paul (Timotheé Chalamet) throws the idea out there that he could hitch his wagon to one of the emperor’s daughters for political gain. So *shrug* guess that’s happening now. Will have to wait for Dune, Part 2!
Something I wasn’t surprised at all to see hadn’t changed much was the movie’s treatment of the Harkonnens. Villeneueve at least had the progressive sense to take away the homophobic elements. But the Baron (Stellan Skarsgård) and his nephew, Rabban (David Baptista) are still obese. It goes beyond that as well; everyone in their household is pale and hairless, like they’re some sort of amoebas, or aliens. It was such an over-the-top attempt at dehumanizing these villains that I felt it quite oppressively boring.
The scene of Duke Leto’s death at least turned my boredom into discomfort. The Baron’s men lay out the naked Duke in a dining area, where of course the villain is gorging himself. At first, I was groaning; oh no, is the homophobic depiction of the evil gay man here, after all? But as the scene went on, I started to give Villeneuve the benefit of the doubt. The Baron in the book was lustful towards his prey, whereas Skarsgård was cold and distant. Leto’s nakedness was obviously meant to humiliate him and make him more vulnerable, but not in a sexual way, I don’t think. He was lying on the chair at this weird angle, like his body was already broken and deformed. It was a visceral and unsettling show of domination and power, and the only scene where the Harkonnens made an impression on me at all.
I felt pretty *shrug* about all of the Atreides advisors, though Jason Mamoa was surprisingly warm as Duncan Idaho. Maybe I’m still just seeing him as the stoic Khal Drogo from Game of Thrones. 😛 In my head, I view the character as a less macho and burly man, though that’s probably because of casting choices from the other adaptations. I also, in general, liked seeing the fierce “hoo-rah” loyalty of the Atreides soldiers; it feels like the movie might be criticizing the mindset, with regards to who Paul will ultimately become, but it’s also a good placeholder for the second movie, when the new Duke of House Atreides will certainly call upon that power.
As for Timotheé Chalamet, I kind of agree with Adaptation Nation that he restricted himself to one facial expression. 😛 I don’t think it bothered me as much as it bothered them. Maybe because I liked seeing Paul this affected; I don’t remember the other two Dune adaptations paying this much close attention to his damning visions about Holy War. I was also feeling a little spicy while watching the movie in the theater, hee. So when Paul was staring into space and Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin) had to drag him back before the impending sand worm attack, I imagined his inner monologue regarding his vision: wait, so how many billions of people do I kill? Or, after the first and only time he addresses Chani by name, I added “do you mind if I name our daughter ‘Spoils of War’ after you die in childbirth?”
To return to Chani’s betrayal (and not the spoilers I just gave about her arc in Dune Messiah,) she came off a bit as the “magical black woman” trope, didn’t she? She was both the black friend and the female love interest whose primary role in the movie was to motivate Paul to See Things. It’s a little ironic, I suppose, because in certain ways Villeneuve made concentrated efforts towards diverse casting and female characterization. Yet, Chani is just a spirit guide (disclaimer: I’m positive she’ll have a meatier role in the next movie,) and as for casting, there’s been some upset over the lack of MENA actors playing the Fremen. Yes, Villeneuve was far less “white” than either of the previous two Dune adaptations, but it does feel like he didn’t go far enough. (Also, generally speaking, critics weren’t pleased with how he excised much of the Arab and Islamic influence from the narrative, either.)
But I was overall pleased with how Villeneuve handled Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferugson.) Some of his pre-game interviews had me concerned that he’d turn her into a Badass trope—you know, the Strong Female Character must always be on hand to kick some ass. It’s not like canon Jessica isn’t powerful in her own right, with regards to her Bene Gesserit training. But I think, in practice, what Villeneuve’s movie did was make Jessica more emotionally present. Perhaps that goes against canon Bene Gesserit stoicism, but it certainly made Jessica seem more like a human being—a real mother, who cared about her son. (The “romantic” portrayal of the Leto/Jessica relationship was far too truncated for any of that.) A change I really liked was that Villeneuve gave the Litany Against Fear to Jessica, praying in fear for the safety of her son during a pinnacle scene, rather than to Paul himself.
I also felt like her desire to give birth to a son, rather than a daughter as the Bene Gesserit ordered her to do (sidenote: Bene Gesserit can control their bodies to the degree of choosing the gender of their babies), wasn’t just about her acquiescing to Duke Leto’s wishes. At least in her conversation with the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohaim (Charlotte Rampling), it seems like she also bears the ambition to want to give birth to the Kwisatz Haderach. It’s possible she had that ambition in the books as well, and I’ve just forgotten.
That being written, it is Jessica who wants, more than Paul, to step away from the precipice once it presents itself. The first movie ends with her imploring the Fremen to get Paul off planet, but her son refuses. “My road leads into the desert,” Paul asserts. It’s almost like Dune is a bildungsroman for Jessica as well, a journey to freeing herself from the oppressive power of her religious order.
Ferguson’s performance drew me in—kind of strange, coming from an actress who was apparently bewildered by the material. 😛 Maybe that says something about me. A lot of other critics felt that Paul and Jessica’s relationship (and most to all of the relationships portrayed on the screen, in fact,) left them a little cold. I felt like, for the first time, Jessica held real power over Paul, even as he chafed against it. But maybe it’s that Ferguson’s enigmatic performance held power over me. And honestly, maybe it has more to do with the larger-than-life presentation of the movie as a whole than it does with the heart of the character.
I do think that’s the biggest takeaway from Dune, Part 1: the epic feel. You know you’re on an alien planet several thousand years into the future—well, if it weren’t for the bagpipes. 😛 It’s incredible to look at—from the huge, circular spaceships to the shimmering sand in the desert. Villeneuve’s film understands the sheer scope of Herbert’s worldbuilding.
Though I had to roll my eyes a little bit that the last line of this movie was Chani’s “this is only the beginning.” 😛 I think Villeneuve had a little too much fun with that one, heh.
…I was going to transition one final time here to a section that delves more specifically into Frank Herbert and his inspirations. But even I think that this blog post is getting a bit too long. 😛 So stay tuned, because I’ll likely bring it up in another entry later this month!
The spice must flow. 😛
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