With Dune part Two now out in theaters, the adaptation of Frank Herbert's original novel is complete. Whereas David Lynch's 1984 adaptation had to cram the entire novel into a single movie, to its detriment, the somewhat abrupt end to Villeneuve's first movie allows the second one to breathe and really dwell on Paul Atreides' struggles to survive in the desert, learn the ways of the Fremen people, and wrestle with the idea that, in order to achieve his heroic journey, he must co-opt an indigenous culture, breed fanaticism amongst them, and unleash a genocidal conquest across the stars.
Herbert supposedly wrote Dune Messiah in part to make sure his intent with the original story hit home - many read the first novel as a classic heroic journey and seemed not to understand the monstrousness of what Paul and his mother achieved in converting the Fremen to their cause.
Dune Messiah takes place decades after the original story. At this point, Paul is emperor and Arrakis and the Fremen people have become the center of power in the Imperium. The Harkonnens are no more - except, of course, for the fact that Paul and his mother and sister are, as revealed in the first book, are actually Harkonnens as well, given Jessica's parentage.
It's notable, I think, that there's a reasonable interpretation that Paul's father Leto was genuinely a good person through-and-through. Sure, there's also a way to look at him as being just really good at PR (I actually think there are parallels with the character of Miquella in the video game Elden Ring, where it's not clear if he's just a good guy or just really good at convincing people he is) but if we think of Leto as where Paul's goodness comes from, we must recognize that even though Jessica and Paul are both sympathetic characters in their own way, they have that killer instinct - that cruel Harkonnen instinct - within them.
Still, Paul is haunted by the horrors he has unleashed, even as he justifies them as the lesser of all the potential evils that might befall humanity. But it's clear that he wants nothing more than to leave that life.
Dune Part Two compresses time a bit - in the book, Alia is a toddler (though with her ancestral memories, she's far from your typical toddler, having the intellectual background of a wise elder) by the end of the story. Though clearly far younger than Paul, by the time of the second book, she's a full adult. Anya Taylor-Joy's casting in part two is interesting, then: while we see her in person only in a dream-like vision of an Arrakis that has returned to its watery, fertile climate, it's a minimal appearance that seems to portend future prominence in a part three.
Still, I wonder about the challenges of making such a distant sequel. Admittedly, in the Dune universe, the ruling class use Spice to prolong their lives (it's sometimes referred to as the "geriatric spice") and so they look far younger than they are (this is part of the reason I sort of forgive the fact that Rebecca Ferguson is only twelve years older than Timothee Chalamet, even if it's probably just classically Hollywood gender weirdness - they also both happen to be right for the roles individually). But we haven't really had that concept established in these movies - Emperor Shaddam is played by 80-year-old Christopher Walken, while the 72-year-old Emperor in the novel is described as looking like he's in his early 30s.
I can understand the choice to just cast older actors to play that older generation, but I also wonder if that means that they would need to re-cast Paul, Chani, and any other characters of their generation (other than Alia, for the aforementioned reasons).
I doubt they'd do that - Chalamet and Zendaya's performances, particularly the latter in the second film, are pretty central to the success of the series so far.
Still, I think both parts of the Villeneuve adaptation have benefitted from Chalamet's boyish appearance (the guy is in his late 20s now and might be in his 30s by the time they get the next movie filming) but I think Dune Messiah as a story really needs a weathered, weary Paul Atreides to work, dramatically. Messiah is all about how the potential horrors of being the figurehead of a genocidal theocracy have been made fully manifest, just as horrifically as he had feared. At one point (I think it's in this book,) Paul, accessing what is in his time profoundly ancient history through his ancestral recall, compares himself to Hitler, and finds himself to be responsible for orders of magnitude more suffering and death.
It's a bummer of a story, and arguably not as elegant of a plot as its predecessor or even the follow-up, Children of Dune. (I tried reading God Emperor of Dune, and while I find it conceptually interesting, I just could not get into it in the same way.) And honestly, I think Villeneuve's adaptational choices - making Chani the voice of skepticism, who recognizes the evil that is coming with Paul's rise (and the sense of dread you feel when Paul tells the Fremen to bring his enemies "to paradise,") - hit the thematic notes that Herbert felt weren't clear enough in his first novel. In other words, I think that these two parts make a pretty complete story.
But we'll see. I've been very impressed with Villeneuve's sci-fi movies - I have far less love for Blade Runner than a lot of (largely older, like elder Gen Xer) people do, but I thought his sequel told an interesting story well. And I thought Arrival was fantastic. And he's done a terrific job with Dune so far, so clearly he's the person to trust to do the next part.
No comments:
Post a Comment