Okay, I know. I’ve raved about the upcoming film and past adaptations and many other things Dune here before, and while the latest move adaptation did open almost a month ago, it took me a while to get to it mainly because I wanted to see it in an actual theatre — this was not one for streaming at all — but I wanted to wait until the size of the crowds died down.
Plus, I know how the theatre business works, and if you want most of your ticket money to go to the theater (who needs it) as opposed to the mega-studio distributor (who doesn’t) then wait a few weeks.
If you want the minimal number of audience members with you, go on a Tuesday through Thursday early evening, at just after six p.m.
I’m glad I finally did, on a Tuesday evening at 6:50, although I felt guilty in that I didn’t realize before I committed that this was the theater chain’s cheapie $6.50 ticket night (service charge extra.) I would have paid the double price for a Wednesday or Thursday, really.
On the other hand, psychology, it just felt like I needed this bit of self-care on a rough Tuesday and, ultimately, I’m glad I went.
My very short review of it is this: Many have tried, but most have fallen short. Jodorowsky tried and failed spectacularly in the late 60s/early 70s, much closer to the release of the original novel and, honestly, also much closer to its psychedelic roots.
That’s probably the reason this version never happened, because the director behind that one was clearly cranked out of his mind, went way over-budget, and wrote a script that original author Frank Herbert himself reported would have run well over 14 hours.
The first theatrical version of Dune didn’t come out until 1984, directed by David Lynch, and while the producers obviously thought, “This dude makes some really fucked-up looking shit,” they failed to notice that he’s also pretty much straightlaced as hell IRL.
Or maybe the correct term is “buttoned up,” which is literally true — the man always wears dress shirts buttoned all the way to the top, whether he has a tie on or not.
So, while Lynch had no actual experience via which to hook up with the real spiritual and visionary ideas in the source, he nonetheless was a visionary in terms of the arts, knew how to express things visually and how to use art design and cinematography and editing.
Ultimately, his version is a visual feast in which he does create very distinct worlds between those of the Atreides, Harkonnens, the Imperium, and Arrakis. On top of that, his theatrical release came in at two hours and seventeen minutes, which is barely enough time to really even tell the first act of the story.
Still… he had some pretty amazing cast members and some very memorable set, artistic, and costume designs, especially revolving around the Imperial Court, the Guild Navigators and their handlers, and the ships in general.
In a way, he took the way that Star Wars had turned the design of science fiction on its head only seven years earlier in 1977, and then turned it on its head again and gave it a shake. Lucas managed to steal a lot of that back by the time of the prequel trilogy, really.
The third proposed and second produced version of the book was a 2000 miniseries backed by Hallmark, of all entities, and it aired on the then-called Sci Fi under the title Frank Herbert’s Dune, presented in three parts. It was followed up in 2003 by another three-part adaptation of the books Dune Messiah and Children of Dune, probably most significant for introducing James McAvoy to a worldwide audience as Leto II Atreides.
Now, to a Dune fanboy, both of those minis together are just amazing, but the second miniseries is also way out of the scope of things here. Also, the Sci Fi version was really on a budget that focused on hiring very unknown and frequently Eastern European actors in order to put the budget into the special effects.
But if we’re scoring over/under here… Lynch’s film was a good, “financed by 80s studio suits who wouldn’t know art if it bit their taint but were mostly wise enough to let him go,” while the miniseries was a better, “You can do what you want with the script, and we’ll finance the effects as well as long as you can make everything else cheaply as hell.”
Caveat on the first one: Yeah, the suits left Lynch mostly alone when he made the film, but they also created an extended version for TV that was so bad that Lynch took his name off it, and it aired as “An Alan Smithee Film.”
If you don’t know what that used to mean, go look it up.
The Smithee cut was 40 minutes longer than the theatrical version, but was padded out mostly by a half-hour extremely expositional prologue narrated by a minor character, Emperor’s daughter Princess Irulan, and illustrated completely with pre-production art and storyboards.
In other words, boring AF. The other ten minutes were composed of mostly outtakes and, honestly, they were originally outtakes for a reason.
So… those two and a half versions down, we come to the 2021 Part One iteration, and what’s my Dune Uber-fanboy take?
Oh, fuck, yeah. Denis Villeneuve just gets it and, wisely (unlike the other two directors) he split screenplay credit, so he did not try to do the whole thing himself.
Plus… he also did not try to do the whole thing, which was his wisest move. The book Dune would never fit into a single film, and it barely fit into a nearly five-hour miniseries. Dune: Part One is nearly half-way to that, which is a good sign.
The other good sign is that it ended at exactly the right part of the story, with the exact right line and visual, so that (for me) it didn’t feel unfulfilling. Nope. exactly the opposite.
It was the director planting his flag in the sand and declaring, “Hey. This is what I said I was going to do. Here we are. See you in Part Two…”
And I am so there for that journey.
Also amazing are the things that did not appear in Part One, which are only going to make Part Two stronger.
In Lynch’s Dune, the Emperor appeared early on and, IIRC, in almost the first scene, and we learn about his entire plot right then and there. In Villaneuve’s Dune, though, the Emperor and his daughter do not appear. Neither does Baron Harkonnen’s other nephew, Fayd Rautha, so memorably portrayed by Sting in a blue clamshell speedo in Lynch’s version.
C’mon — that is the perfect death-cage matchup, period. For one thing, I think the two are pretty well-matched physically, and (spoiler alert) the characters are probably related thanks to the Bene Gesserit and their long-running breeding program, so their physical resemblance actually works.
For another, despite people thinking that it might look like an angry nerd slap-fight in a middle school cafeteria, Timothée Chalomet has already proven that he can hold his own in fight choreography.
The only downside is believing that he’s related to Harkonnen and his nephew (Feyd’s older brother) Beast Rabban, because Styles is just too pretty. On the other hand, the same two characters in Lynch’s version were not at all attractive people and Feyd was Sting, the only nod to them being related their fiery red hair.
Oh — Harkonnen and Rabban are both bald in this one. Hm…
So that’s my take on the latest Dune adaptation and thoughts on the others, but how do the three really compare? I’ll give my take on that one in the next installment.
Hey, if Villeneuve can do his adaptation in two parts, I can do likewise with my commentary. Check in tomorrow. At least I’m not making you wait until 2023.