Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atreides in Dune: Part Two. Imagine the fate of the universe resting on a dude named Paul! | Warner Bros. Pictures
Welcome to Know-It-All. In the age of intellectual property grabs, docudramas, and so very many sequels, it can be difficult to find a way into the complicated worlds we see on screen. In this series, Vox experts explain what you need to know to get into the latest hot release.
This article contains spoilers for Dune: Part Two
Like a Harkonnen soldier levitating around in the endless desert, one can find oneself a bit lost when it comes to Dune. On paper, the franchise has everything a science fiction space opera needs: telepathic matriarchs with hostile accents, ostentatious helmets, slimy villains that resemble pudding, a coming-of-age story about destiny, and colossal worms that shake the sand like a T. rex in Jurassic Park. Yet, after seeing each of director Denis Villeneuve’s interpretations — two now, clocking in at nearly five and a half hours of Dune — I find myself with more questions than answers about how this world works, who’s bad, who’s good, and what the worms on Arrakis eat.
Dune: Part Two, officially in theaters March 1, tells the tragedy of House Atreides, a noble family with great hair. After an assault in Dune: Part One by the Harkonnen, the bad, bald enemies of the Atreides clan, son Paul (Timothée Chalamet) and his mother Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) are taken in by the Fremen, the humans who make the planet Arrakis their home.
Paul, who has prophetic powers, wants vengeance on the Harkonnens but also wants to liberate the Fremen, especially after learning their way of life from the rugged Chani (Zendaya). Jessica, meanwhile, has motivations of her own, including mythologizing her son as a messianic figure, igniting a holy war, and carrying a sentient female fetus in her womb. The Harkonnens, so pale and aesthetically unpleasant, desire two things: spice, the expensive material that makes this universe go round; and brutality for everyone who stands in their way. Looming over this conflict are the superpowered sisterhood known as the Bene Gesserit, Florence Pugh’s Princess Irulan brooding over the political implications of these events, and, of course, some big, beautifully gross worms.
That’s a lot of moving, spinning parts — not unlike the worms of Dune!
Luckily for me, Vox senior politics editor Patrick Reis is not only patient but an avid Dune fan, having read Frank Herbert’s novels and watched their live-action adaptations. He’s well-versed in everything Atreides, knowledgeable about Chani and the Fremen, and has the ability to explain the complexities of the Bene Gesserit in ways that Dune neophytes can understand.
Patrick — a Dune expert — and I — a Dune newbie — both saw all 166 minutes of Dune: Part Two and were able to compare notes. From director Villeneuve’s stunning visuals to the lore of Arrakis, Patrick and I talked through all the questions you’re too embarrassed to ask about the movie and franchise of the moment.
Patrick, let’s get to it. What are your initial thoughts on the movie? Did it live up to expectations? Was it better than the first one?
Dune: Part Two is definitely better, but that’s a bit unfair to the first movie. The first movie built the book’s whole world and previewed so much of what was to come. The second one took all those storylines and turned them into action pieces, which made for a more entertaining film. I think it almost makes more sense to take the two together and think of them as a season of television — and an extremely good one.
The sequel is beautiful. That was my dominant experience. It wasn’t a perfect movie by any stretch, but it was so visually stunning that I kept wanting more. The movie, like the book, leans so heavily on the setting, and that’s a strength here. The planet Arrakis — a desert, near-waterless world also known as “Dune” — is the titular character, and by constantly showcasing it, the movie became so much more immersive. When the movie ended and the lights came up, I was subconsciously expecting to walk out of the theater into a desert. That’s impressive to me.
We’re on the same page. From the small things, like the way doors open, to the big ones, like the battle scenes and all the different ways things explode, I found that so much attention is paid to every detail. And those details combine to completely affect the mood of every frame. It’s a masterpiece in visual storytelling. You could watch this movie on mute and understand almost everything that’s happening, which is extremely helpful for newbies. Was there a scene that stood out in particular to you?
Obviously, the showstopper is when Paul rides the worm. That was tremendous. But I think the opening battle may have even been cooler. The Harkonnen troops, in all black, levitating up the rock formation is an image that will stick with me for a long time, as will the image of the Fremen exploding out of the sand. And it comes to a perfect conclusion with Rebecca Ferguson reminding us that she is absolutely not to be trifled with.
Ferguson is truly incredible as Lady Jessica, and we’ll talk more about that later, but first I wanted to say how surprised I was that Timothée Chalamet more than held his own throughout the movie. This story wholly rides on the tension of a pensive, if not frail, young man becoming the foretold messiah. We know Chalamet can do the former (Call Me By Your Name particularly), but I was surprised how convincing he was in scenes where he has to convince the Fremen — the desert people who live on Arrakis — to follow him. At one point he even adopts the Fremen name Muad’Dib, which refers to the tiny desert kangaroo mouse — a very cute and endearing act that Timmy pulls off brilliantly.
He was almost too convincing! Chalamet did such a great job never making Paul a conventional action hero, which would have tipped the movie into full-on camp. But in the final third, he turns the intensity way up, and he’s quite convincing as a leader.
If I have a quibble with the movie, it’s his transition from reluctant leader to messianic figure. The book spends more time on the weight of prescience — both the power you hold and the torture of knowing how you’ll shape the future. Once Paul gained the ability to see what was to come, he seemed more determined and confident, and I missed the brooding, tortured Paul from earlier in the film.
I thought Zendaya picked up the slack here, being the voice of anti-fanaticism at a time when the dam had clearly burst. Chani’s look of horror at what had become of Paul — and the messiah-driven military movement he was leading to overthrow the galactic order — is what stuck with me immediately after the movie ended. It’s a big break with the book, but, to me, one for the better.
Poor Chani, navigating a relationship is tricky enough. Having your boyfriend turn into a messiah overnight must’ve felt like whiplash. Would you follow Chalamet’s Paul into a holy war, yes or no?
Hard pass. #TeamChani
The movie is two hours and 46 minutes long and unfurls an entire act in which Austin Butler’s Feyd-Rautha is introduced as this grandiose villain, the seeming successor of House Harkonnen. Then it sort of just tosses him aside at the end. With the way the movie positions him — lots of solo scenes, lots of ominous lighting, so much attention to his cannibal harem — didn’t it seem like Butler’s Feyd-Rautha would have a bigger role?
Dune: Part Two contained a beautiful, terrifying short film in the middle called “Meet Feyd-Rautha.” It’s near black and white — a big visual departure from the rest of the story. It also introduces a new final (final-ish?) boss for Paul, and it’s full of new characters.
It was, like the rest of the movie, visually stunning, but I don’t think it holds up as well as the rest of the film.
I felt like those scenes dragged a bit, particularly given how long the movie was overall, and I didn’t love Butler’s character. I thought he’d be more compelling if he were more different from the rest of the Harkonnens — smarter, more introspective, less across-the-board evil. Instead, he felt like just the distilled version of the rest of his family, whereas the book makes a much sharper contrast between Rautha and the brutish Rabban (played by Dave Bautista). It made me wonder why the Bene Gesserit — the holy order of sisters plotting behind the scenes to control the galaxy by breeding a superbeing — would think of Rautha as so special.
From what you’re saying, there seems to be a missed opportunity for a bit more complexity there. It just felt like we subbed one violent bald man for another. This second chapter was not particularly kind to Rabban, who seems to have become the universe’s cuck in the span of 40 cinematic minutes. He can do no right and everyone around him is either frustrated with his failure or eclipsing him. By the end, I feel like it was as if we were supposed to wonder if this man was so scary in the first place. I suppose there’s some comfort in knowing that nepo babies exist on Arrakis too.
I think the most compelling characters in the Dune story are the Bene Gesserit. I affectionately call them the “Ben and Gerrys.” They’re a bunch of grumpy women dressed in beautiful garments and have superpowers like mind control and poison transmutation. What I don’t quite get is why don’t my Ben and Gerrys just run things?
Here’s where I’m not so sure that the big, subtle backstory of the book comes across in the movie.
Let’s back up a bit. Long, long before the events of the films, humanity had a purge of all “thinking machines.” And so for centuries (and maybe longer) the main advances in technology have not been better machines, but re-engineering humans themselves. That’s the big project your Ben and Gerrys are working on: breeding the superbeing.
Paul was supposed to be the second-to-last step before that superbeing. Lady Jessica was to have a female — Bene Gesserit can determine their offspring’s gender because of course they can — to mate with Feyd-Rautha. But out of love for Oscar Isaac’s Duke Leto (RIP), she granted his wish for a male heir. Intentionally or otherwise, that brought the superbeing into being a generation early.
Remember that scene where Paul drank the electric blue worm juice?
It’s the same Pantone shade as blue Gatorade.
That’s when he made the big leap into superhuman abilities, gifting him both eons of memories of lives past and also a near all-seeing command of how his actions today can shape the future for a long time to come.
So to get back to your question: The Ben and Gerrys seem content to let the men fight the relatively small-stakes conflicts over the imperial throne and control of the spice. But behind the scenes, they are in control of the big struggle: to produce a superbeing whom they can control. Unfortunately for them, they only get halfway there.
Is having an ominous English accent a requirement for Ben and Gerrys?
Personally, I would have given them all thick Midwestern accents, but nobody asked me.
A heavy Minnesotan accent would’ve completely changed the game. “For worm’s sakes, Paul, use the Voice.” Also, Anya Taylor-Joy as Paul’s sister who is actually still a fetus is just giving me rancid vibes. She seems like bad news!
I don’t want to give too much away from the next books, but yeah, there’s a lot going on there.
A lot! Ferguson’s Lady Jessica goes from skittering around the desert and smashing Harkonnen soldiers with rocks to becoming a “Reverend Mother.” I know that means something specific to Dunies.
When Lady Jessica drank the blue Gatorade and became a Reverend Mother, that entailed her receiving the memories of thousands of years of ancestors. And the reason those around her were so horrified that she’s pregnant was because those memories were all being received by a fetus, who basically became self-aware and developed Bene Gesserit mental powers before even having a fully formed body. Suffice to say, that’s not the healthiest way to start a human life, and so you’re not wrong to suspect that not all is well there. All that plays out later in the books, so I’m not sure how much we’ll see of it on screen, but her character gets fascinating — and intense.
Having seen exactly two Dune movies now, my biggest criticism is that there are not enough worms. This is a planet with giant worms with huge, hairy butthole-like mouths, and I can’t help but feel like they deserve as much attention, if not more, as two humans named Paul and Jessica. Paul and Jessica are great, but are they giant worms? No!
All I’ll say is that book three and especially book four get really wormy and really, really weird.
What do we expect for the next Dune movies? What happens in the books?
The first two movies covered the events of Dune, and they did so pretty faithfully. The next book is titled Dune Messiah. It’s about the aftermath of Paul Muad’Dib’s Fremen jihad, with Paul having to live with the consequences of the path he chose for the galaxy, and the Fremen having to assess what they really got in exchange for anointing him.
I imagine the Ben and Gerrys are still plotting away and Florence Pugh’s Princess Irulan will have a bigger role than just Wikipedia-ing the war. Will we also find out if Anya Taylor-Joy’s vibes are actually bad?
Fear not, the Ben and Gerrys aren’t going anywhere. The next book also introduces a new set of rivals: a patriarchal set of gene-splicers and cloners known as the Bene Tleilax. (I promise you, each book gets a bit more weird than the last.)
As for Paul, Chani, and Irulan, the film departs some from the book’s handling of their relationships, so it’s hard to know what’s in store for Irulan. But in the book at least, she’s right in the middle of the action. Same goes for Anya Taylor-Joy’s Alia, who’s out of the womb and making moves as Paul’s ally.
And Paul is still at the center of all of it. The book, after all, is called Dune Messiah.
Villeneuve said in December that the script for Part Three was almost finished. There’s no release date yet, meaning that newbies and fanatics alike will have to wait to reunite with Paul, Ben and Gerrys, Anya Taylor-Fetus, and the beauty and brutality of Villeneuve’s Dune.
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