Dune Part Two is exactly what its name promises, yet I think many will find it a jarring experience. At least on the first viewing. There’s a sense that, like Part One, we’re only seeing a fragment of the big picture. A showcase for a grander vision of Dune that is still incomplete. One that we now desperately need to see finished.
Continuing exactly where the first ended three years ago, Part Two finds Paul and Jessica Atreides in the desert, escorted to their new lives by the Fremen. The brutal Harkonnen’s have taken over Arrakis, and somewhere in the distant galaxy, the Emperor ensures the betrayal is buried into the winds of history.
There is very little in the way of exposition to help us. By the end, director and writer Denis Villeneuve forgoes even the most basic of denouements. It’s minimalist storytelling in maximalist guise, and, for some, it will be the dealbreaker that makes this Dune adaptation a nonstarter.
To keep up with its breathless narrative, Dune expects the audience to remember every character, new and old, and their increasingly fragile allegiances while bombarded with visual spectacle for nearly three hours. Frank Herbert’s dense, rich prose is brought to life with unparalleled grace that strangely makes the long runtime also feel shorter than it deserves. By the time the third big profile actor disappears from the film entirely after a mere hallucinatory cameo, it’s clear that Villeneuve isn’t here to offer an olive branch for the uninitiated.
If Part One came under scrutiny for almost too much setup, I’d argue that Part Two is too much payoff. Would a shorter, singular film work better? I doubt it. And part of me feels that on a second viewing, Dune will reveal itself a stronger, more cohesive work, once the initial sensory overload fades.
Pacing issues aside, there is very little to complain about the sheer majestic effort on display. From the cast to the visual effects and the haunting soundtrack by Hans Zimmer, there isn’t a single false note in the entire production. Arrakis is a fully realized world, where the smallest details serve to flesh out its vast mythology.
A lesser filmmaker would bury themselves in the enormity of it all. Instead, Villeneuve fixates on the faces of his cast, each a remarkable landscape of their own. Much of the story takes place in the silences between characters, where unspoken lines and stolen glances speak more than words. In a world where anyone could potentially betray another, and others foretell prophecies in the most innocent exchanges, it’s no wonder most choose silence.
Where Dune refuses to be silent is in subtext. The Atreides were never heroes, but rather occupiers usurped by even worse ones. In Part Two, Villeneuve leans into the deconstruction of the hero myth, painting Paul (as Herbert did in the original) as an opportunistic leader of the weakened. People who’ve lost everything to the power struggles of oligarchs, and even had their religion weaponized against them. His quest is one of sanctimonious vengeance, and Villeneuve’s lens is not kind in capturing the desolation Paul brings with him.
Is it subtle? Not in the least, but that’s a necessity. After all, people still argue whether Starship Troopers is a satire. Sometimes you need a sledgehammer to get the point across.
Here, the sledgehammers are the actors, each bringing their A-game. Zendaya, in particular, is fantastic as Chani, the “destined lover” of Paul, who fights against the patriarchal lineages thrust upon her. Austin Butler, already a showstopper in Elvis, nearly runs away with the film as the psychotic Feyd-Rautha. With shaved eyebrows and a panther-like gait, his is a villain for the ages.
Rounding up the cast are the heavyweights Josh Brolin, Rebecca Ferguson, Florence Pugh, Stellan Skarsgård, and Javier Bardem. Each consistently great, yet with varying degrees of things to do.
When viewed as one long film with an intermission, Dune is a spectacular achievement. The problem is the intermission took three years. I watched the first part just before the second, and even then the pacing caught me off guard. It’s also a frustrating experience because there is so much setup for the future, yet no guarantees we will ever see it lead anywhere.
It is a visionary adaptation of a complicated book that cries out for more. Another film, maybe even three. A TV series. Something to bring us back to Arrakis. It would be a bittersweet farewell to leave it here, when it feels like the story is just beginning.