Dune 2: Don’t Trust Your Leaders, but Your Leaders Are Supermen

“Who’s ready to kill 61 billion people?!?! Wait, I take it back! I TAKE IT BAAAAAACK!!!!”

WARNING for Dune universe spoilers!

I wrote a whole lot about Dune when part one came out, but I’ll probably be more contained this time. But if anything, my respect for this story, and for Frank Herbert’s reactionary politics has soured even more.

As a forewarning, most of my Dune commentary centers around Dune Messiah, which Villenueve recently announced he would turn into a movie. Maybe it’s not fair to judge Dune 2 by…er, book two, but like Paul, who drank from the water of life, I see where things are going here. And it’s not great.

The major crux of Dune 2 (which frankly challenges the necesity of the sprawling, meandering backstory nature of part one) is that the Harkonnens are back in charge, Paul wants revenge and the Fremen want their planet back. Natural allies, right? Except that some Fremen, particularly those who aren’t taken with the messianic suggestion the Bene Gesserit threaded into their culture, want their leader to be a fellow Fremen. Paul, for his part, soon to be renamed “Usul” and “Maud’Dib,” wants to culturally immerse himself in Fremen ways. And at least in the beginning, he doesn’t want to be the face of the revolution. But he can’t seem to help himself, either.

He’s also manipulated along the path by Jessica (last movie it was dreams of Chani which led him to war; this movie it’s dreams of his mother, cos bitches, right guys?) To be fair, Jessica’s drive to fundamentalism has a sort of arc, confirming the danger of prescience. She’s forced to drink from the water of life, starts communing with spirits, and changes her trajectory from “your father didn’t believe in revenge” to “I MUST STIR UP THE FANATICS TO FIGHT TO THE DEATH SO I CAN KEEP SONNY-BOY SAFE.” The Jessica of the movie, in essence, became Alia of Dune Messiah. (She also spent a lot of time talking to fetus Alia, turning one or both of them into Abominations. Alia did not appear in this movie, except as a nonsensical scepter for Paul to commune with near the end.) This kinda reminds me of the Catelyn/Lady Stoneheart debacle in Game of Thrones. Why include vengeful Lady Stoneheart in the adaptation when Catelyn was acting like her anyway? But anywho.

Villeneuve’s truncuated timeline ensured that Alia would not be a little girl, or even born, like she was at the end of book one, and the whole campaign against the Harkonnens felt very rushed. Honestly, was there enough time for Paul to convine 99% of Fremen to go to holy war for him? (Especially when they’ve bever been off planet before, and how the hell do they even have the numbers…anyway.) Seems weird to me!

But at least Villeneuve, unlike Herbert if I remember correctly, gave Paul agency over the decision to go to holy war. Sure, he struggled and whined against the future he saw, but he’s ultimately the one who revved the Fremen up for the final battle and all that followed. In the book series, the tragedy of Paul seemed to be that his followers massacred 61 billion people without his consent. Which is an even more problematic message than blindly following a dictator; it suggests that there’s something inherently violent and bloodthirsty in Fremen as a communal group.

This tracks with Herbert’s adherence to eugenics, frankly. He may want us to criticize his vaguely papal organization of the Bene Gesserit, but their breeding program actually worked. When Paul drank from the water of life, he was able to do something no other person was ever able to do; he saw The “Golden Path” of humanity’s future. And thus: Herbert’s treatise on leaders is a lie. Sure, he may be distrustful of the JFK-like charisma he gave his main character. And yet, he slots Paul Mythical-Greek-Surname Atreides into a brutal totalitarian world with no other options. Herbert only sees “one path forward” for all humankind *massive eyeroll,* so how does that track with his so-called argument against Paul? How can human beings trust themselves and not their authoritarian leader when the only way to save the species is to follow (or be forced) by the whims of supermen who can drink the water of life and not go crazy? This isn’t an unsubstantiated prophecy telling us this. It’s in the fabric of the magical worldbuilding.

Herbert’s lazy justification to have his cake and eat it, too, is for Paul to fail in bringing about the Golden Path, because it’s just too monstrous. (How does it not make him more likable to at least take one step back from the promise of an eon of tyranny?) Between Dune Messiah and Children of Dune, Paul’s Nixonite son, Leto II, has to take up that mantle. Nobody likes Leto II as a despitic theocratic totalitarian, but too fucking bad. In Herbert’s world/universe, prescience, cultural stagnation and tyranny must be beaten out of our genetic code…with prescience, authoritarian oppression and tyranny.

But to get back to reviewing Dune 2…great production value, lots of personal angst on Arakkis, and one-dimensional faff everywhere else. The most interesting thing about the literally-whitewashed Harkonnens is Austin Butler’s attempt at gravel-voice. (Also, a random Bene Gesserit sister is carrying his child, so that may come back in movie 3.) Elsewhere, Irulan and her father poke their heads in to give wooden exposition and wear strange head pieces.

And then there’s Chani, who in Villeneuve’s story emerges as the tragic figure of the piece. In book one, she blindly stood by Paul, even has he started a holy war (whatevs) and married Irulan (but he loves me!) Villeneuve’s character is disillusioned by Paul’s turn towads embracing messianism to achieve his goals. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know that the Golden Path comes with authorial bias; there’s no getting away from it, girl!

But now I find it miserable that, if Dune Messiah is at all canonical, she will stay with Paul and bear his children! If she thinks Paul the Despot is bad, wait until she meets her son, Richard Nixon the Sandworm! Her own son will give up his humanity in order to become a supernatural force of oppression and cruelty (which is the only way forward for humanity, apparently, but still! By this point, maybe humans should throw in the towel already.)

…or perhaps Chani wouldn’t mind that Leto II is a monster? Arguably, Chani’s own devotion to violent revolution is at least partially extremist. At least her son has Fremen blood, I guess. But it doesn’t really matter what Chani thinks either way. She’ll be dead by the time Leto II rises.

The Dune story is about simple, violent humans following a simple, violent destiny from which they can’t escape. It appeals to fringe political groups eager to demonize the one-dimensional, dehumanized bad guys of this universe. Frank Herbert’s justification for the paranoid foundation of the Golden Path is that it’s supposed to lead to enlightenment and diversification of ideas. But he can’t seem to divorce himself from the absolutism that there’s some “great enemy” of humanity. I don’t care what he was smoking; defining reality in terms of enemies never leads to peace.

As the real world continues to fracture into violence and dehumanization, I want more science fiction that doesn’t give into this status quo. There is no one “Golden Path” narrative for all of us. There is no sandworm despot from which we can’t escape. There’s only each other, and the nuance and empathy we should bring to our multitude of experiences.


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