I awaited Dune with palpable excitement. A Dune adaptation by Denis Villeneuve! It sounded like a match made in heaven. Admittedly, at that point I hadn’t read the source material, nor had I seen the David Lynch stab. I HAD seen Jodorowsky’s Dune, the documentary detailing the Chilean cult filmmaker’s aborted attempt at bringing Frank Herbert’s sci-fi opus to life. And that alone was enough to convince me of its inherent difficulty to master on the big screen. “But Villeneuve!” I said to myself.
My personal preamble
It’s funny that I had so much faith, as I’m actually a bit hot and cold on Hollywood’s new go-to science fiction master. I thought his major breakthrough Arrival was quite good when it dealt with world shattering political ramifications, but quite ill-fitting when it turned maudlin. Blade Runner 2049 was one of the best films I saw in its year. On that strength of the neon-soaked latter film, my enthusiasm powered on. Near rave reviews out of TIFF and other festivals followed, and just before Hannah and took our own journey to a desert land (in this case, Joshua Tree), I dedicated myself to finally reading the original text.
Perhaps it was the synchronicity of reading Dune on a plane, where my journey to the land of stoner rock echoed that of the trek of House Atreides as the Emperor uprooted them by royal decree to the world of Arrakis, but I was instantly sucked in. Often with well regarded sci-fi, particularly of the era that bumps up against the New Wave of the late 60’s, I have to work doubly hard to maintain my focus, and Dune’s reputation for impenetrability preceded it. And yet, I found reading the book a pretty breezy experience; a richly engaging work that, while filled to the brim with unfamiliar terms and political and social structures, was held together by the immediacy of its character’s interpersonal lives and relationships. I also found the mytho-historic way each chapter opened to be extremely clever. Everything involving Paul’s destiny is already foretold, and its hardly the important part. The road, not the destination, etc etc…
For the record, I made it to page 200. I didn’t stop out of disinterest. I plan on picking it back up, but I got caught up in other assignments and other films to review. At the very least, ahead of our screening, I felt I had the tools to properly contextualize the happenings that would unfold in front of me. And in my infinite wisdom, I augured that perhaps I could find myself rejuiced about the whole prospect, even if it meant I would be forever looking at Timothee Chalamet in my mind’s eye.
Economies of Scale
I sat down in that screening room with my colleagues, kicked back, and was ready to be wowed.
As the minutes ticked by through our showing, a sense of worry began to creep over me. Why am I struggling to get into this? All the pieces are there. The bones of the story are pretty much in place, and visual factor, while a bit monochrome just by virtue of the material, was in no way lacking. Truly, it’s inarguable that Villeneuve and his crew are the first filmmakers to nail the world building of Herbert’s vision. Everything is there, the technology, the various uniforms and protective outfits, the sandworms (of course), and I even came away with a better understanding of what “the voice” is and what mentats do when they’re pulling together their calculations.
Even the casting is pretty much as good as I could imagine it would shape up, from Oscar Isaac as a solidly stern if occasionally verging on bland Duke Leto, to Rebecca Ferguson‘s pitch perfect Lady Jessica. Even the supporting cast more or less fits well, and I particularly liked Josh Brolin sliding into the role of the no nonsense Gurney Halleck, while Stellan Skarsgard somehow has made Baron Harkonen an even more disgusting figure than I’ve come used to.
So why did I come away, by the time the credits rolled, with a sense that something was missing? It really boils down to what Villeneuve decided to set his focus on, and in this case, it’s all about scale. Almost every shot of Dune is intended to impress, and boy does it ever. Despite the fact that our screening was a little compromised (thank you AMC employee that decided to keep the light on in the screening room, reflecting right in the middle of the screen for half the movie), the technical wizardry and sense of being transported into another place altogether is impossible to deny. And for many, that may be all they’re looking for, and more power to you. But despite that, and despite the fact that Villeneuve bifurcates the novel into two films, with Part One being emblazoned on the title card, he still made a few sacrifices in the adaptation and it let to a narrative choice I found hard to overcome.
Save me, Duncan Idaho
While its extremely loyal to the overall structure and “A to B to C” elements of the book, there must have been a decision made during the scripting process to cut down much of the characterization down to the bone. The world building becomes prioritized, and the emotional core evaporates. So instead of Thufir Hawat being a friendly mentor to Paul, he’s just this guy that works for his dad that he embraces once. Instead of diving deeper into the relationship between Leto and Jessica, which informs so much of her early journey in the novel, they only get a brief moment together in bed with Leto quickly saying “I should have married you”. And poor Dr. Yueh…his entire struggle becomes deleted wholesale, maybe to maintain some of the mystery, but his logic for his actions seems to come out of nowhere. And you may say to me, “Kyle, none of this matters”, but you know what? It matters to me, not because I’m some stickler for adaptations needing to reflect their source material page for page, but to instead better reflect the actual strengths of that material.
I think this has been the ongoing problem with Dune adaptations in the first place. Everyone wants the visionary director to come in and bring this epic fantasy (and yes, it’s far more a fantasy than space opera) to life, but each filmmaker that has been lined up to match that line of thinking in retrospect never really seems to be the best fit for bringing out what actually works about Herbert’s vision. Maybe The Last Duel has me in a biased frame of mind, but this felt like a job for someone as workmanlike as Ridley Scott.
Strangely, the film’s biggest highlight is a character who is given a good deal more material than I’ve seen in the book itself, as Jason Momoa‘s Duncan Idaho brings about the rare scenes when the film escapes the inertness that permeates much of its running time. His performance is a bit anachronistic, but I’ll take it for a character I can actually maintain a connection with. And the point at which he begins to impact the plot also coincides with where I dropped off the book, and I should say the film started to improve. Perhaps the lesson here is, as advertised, don’t read the book before you see the film.
Honestly, I’m a bit envious of those that will have that experience. It’s not that I think Dune as a film is bad, it’s just pretty good, when it had the potential to be great. Maybe I’ll hold off on the rest for Part 2, if it ever happens.
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