<i>Dune: Part Two</i> Asks Questions That the Original Never Dared

If you had the ability to reconsider one of the cornerstones of the science fiction genre, what would you do with that chance?

It is perhaps enough to say that I cannot stop thinking about Dune: Part Two since leaving the theater. That is more than a satisfactory reason to recommend it, to my mind. Films don’t need to be perfect in order to provoke us, and Dune: Part Two certainly isn’t perfect. What’s exciting to me as a viewer and a critic is knowing that no one is likely to agree on the ways in which it falters or triumphs. What is also exciting to me is knowing that a particular stripe of fan is going to be very displeased about what was altered, after an initial salvo that seemed to indicate a careful adherence to the basic narrative.

While Dune: Part One looked and felt like its source material perhaps more than any other screen adaptation, it drew a number of pointed criticisms, particularly where its depiction and casting of the Fremen were concerned. For my part, a lack of focus given to Lady Jessica’s narrative was also drew ire. Given the ways in which Part One was successful—namely in the look, feel, and scope of the film—what would director Denis Villeneuve create to complete this journey?

Building on the framework that Part One painstakingly put in place, Part Two is more stunning, more grotesque, and somehow far grander than the first. We are given the diaries of Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh) as scaffolding in place of her written histories in the book, but the device offers the same anchoring, the same helpful exposition by way of a new figure who is learning precisely how dangerous her father’s machinations have become. The design choices of these films continue to be immaculate in every sense of the word, from the sand of Arrakis slipping into every crevice to the monochrome oil and iron stylings of the Harkonnen homeworld Geidi Prime.

There are moments designed to make you gasp. Paul’s (Timothée Chalamet) first worm ride to become Fremen is perhaps the key point among these, a feat that Villeneuve is determined to make the audience feel with every muscle as the prophisized chosen one clings to the hide of a sandworm as big as a skyscraper with two metal hooks his only hope for survival. The introduction of Austin Butler’s Feyd Rautha is similarly arresting, Butler’s casting easily being one of the more impressive choices for Part Two—Butler plays the role simultaneously calculating, feral, and deeply horny, and the choice pays out dividends every time he steps on screen.

The primary changes that Dune: Part Two enacts come from choices made about the Fremen people and their willingness to believe the legends seeded on Arrakis by the Bene Gesserit generations ago, all about the outer world prophet sent to deliver them. Rather than making Paul’s ascent a simple question of when he is ready to follow the path, a much-needed dose of realism is injected into the story—not every Fremen believes in their religious dogma. There are divisions among their people when questioning who can save Arrakis and its people, and who should fight to free them. Importantly, Chani is one of the key dissenters against the path that Paul will eventually take.

It makes sense of the casting of Zendaya in the role because up until this reveal, it had been something of a mystery as to why this would be a part she would want to play. (As an actor, she has always been very exacting about the roles she has taken on as an adult, and the book’s Chani decidedly does not fit that mold.) In reconsideration of Chani’s story, Zendaya is perhaps the brightest piece of this puzzle, intent on convincing her people that they are the arbiters of their own destiny, that only Fremen can liberate themselves.

The awkwardness then comes from the fact that following this arc seems to be in service of taking the sting out of Paul Atreides’ role as a brutal colonizing force, to reposition his choices as an evil he is actively aware of and trying to overcome. Paul is willing to openly critique Fremen prophecies as the Bene Gesserit trick that they are, to insist that he’s not a savior and merely wants to become Fremen and fight alongside them. His desire to defy that path set down by his mother and the Bene Gesserit is a large part of why Chani falls in love with him. This creates a better story, certainly, and it further humanizes many characters that don’t feel fleshed out enough within the pages of the novel (Paul, Chani, Stilgar). The question then becomes how does this change the overall story?

Because there are many pieces left barely on the board in Dune: Part Two and it makes for confusing viewing. After having her own arc utterly decimated in Part One, Rebecca Ferguson’s Jessica Atreides becomes more perplexing than ever. While it’s initially suggested that she’s following the path laid down by the Bene Gesserit in order to keep them alive, Jessica is also doing so against her directives from the order to ends that are never clarified. Furthermore, the purpose of creating the kwisatz haderach is completely lost in this story, making matters more puzzling. Paul winds up drinking the water of life to… get better visions? Which is important for him, sure, but makes the Bene Gesserit schemes suddenly nonsensical—why bother working to create the kwisatz haderach if he’s not really that important in helping you achieve your aims?

The result makes it seem that Paul’s true difficulty is being caught between his mother (and his unborn but fully conscious sister) and the woman he loves, respectively representations of a shadowy order of eugenics-wielding politicking women and the indigenous people he wishes to join and liberate. Without any attention paid to the Mentats or other various power players that Frank Herbert’s tome showcased, this genuinely damages the core of the story. It was the right choice to pay more attention to Chani and the Fremen people, but an equal amount of attention needed to be paid to other female characters in order for it to plumb make sense… which the film neglects to do.

And tellingly, it has no problem spending an outrageous amount of time on the stories of men instead. The centering of Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin) in this film is a strange mistake that seems to be making a meal out of an overarching revenge theme for several of the film’s central characters. Paul, Jessica, and Gurney are all driven out of a desire for revenge on specific people—Paul against the Emperor (Christopher Walken) and Baron Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgard), Jessica against her own Reverend Mother (Charlotte Rampling), and Gurney against Rabban (Dave Bautista). While revenge is certainly an underlying motivation throughout Dune, the choice to zero in on it does nothing for the story, and actually serves to take time away from figures who need and deserve more development. It also reassigns defining narrative moments for characters who will become incredibly important down the line, if Villeneuve gets the money to make more movies in this series. (Yes, for those wondering, I am talking about Alia.)

The timeline of the film is greatly compressed as well, a choice that is frequently made in film—rules around screenwriting often tout that immediacy is king, and it’s just not true—that I will never understand. Rather than taking place over years, Dune: Part Two takes place over months, robbing the characters of their chances to truly root and grow as groups, and turning up momentum on the story like a boulder gaining speed as it rolls down a mountainside. It takes time to become a legend, but here you just need one big speech, and you’re good to go, apparently.

And then there are a the bits that manage to be good and bad at once. The last hour of the film is overwhelming, undoubtedly an intentional choice meant to heighten tension and saddle the audience with the same increasing dread that the characters are feeling. While the sound design for Dune is incredible fullstop, it might prove too much for some viewers by the end, not just in terms of auditory stimulation but bodily punishment—the whole room heavily vibrates for a solid 45 minutes. (I am saying this as a person who loves the immersive sound quality of a movie theater more than anything on this earth. If I think you’ve maybe overdone it, that’s… probably not the best sign.)

Having said all of this, I still enjoyed the hell out of Dune: Part Two. As a film experience, a spectacle, a sideways look at a familiar story, it is top tier. As a movie you’ll leave the theater talking about, there are none better. I’m content to let it have its moment. But I’ll meet you at the bar later to tease out all the things we can’t stop prodding at, our very own misshapen bruise that somehow resembles a desert mouse.