Dune, as Frank Herbert’s son, Brian, observed, is to science fiction what the Lord of the Rings is to fantasy (Arthur C Clarke agreed with him). And as with Christopher Tolkien and the Lord of the Rings, Brian Herbert continued the Dune books after his father died.
As with Tolkien and fantasy, science fiction existed long
before Frank Herbert entered the scene. Yet no writer before or since has done so
much to enrich the genre. Every futuristic film or TV series released since
1965 carries at least trace amounts of Dune DNA. George Lucas ‘borrowed’ so
heavily from Dune and other sci-fi worlds for his first Star Wars film that
Frank Herbert created a tongue in cheek organisation called, We’re Too Big to
Sue George Lucas.
Tatooine, the Jedi, the Sith, the Empire and Imperial
forces, as well as the Pit of Salaccc (a barely disguised sand worm) are all
repurposed elements from the first Dune novel. Even more of it was apparently included
in the original drafts for A New Hope, including reference to a shipment of
Spice and liberal use of Imperial Houses, a la House Atreides.
The idea of imperial houses did eventually find its way into
the various incarnations of Star Trek, through the Klingon Empire. There would
be no House of Mogh, Martok or Duras (to say nothing of the House of Quark)
without the influence of Dune. Moreover, the Klingon language draws
significantly from the influence Arabic as used by Herbert in his world
building depictions of the Fremen and their desert culture.
Star Wars notwithstanding, various attempts have been made to bring Dune to the screen, big and small, over the years. Before Denis Villeneuve’s 2021 film covering the first half of the novel (Part 2 is due for release in 2023), there was David Lynch’s 1984 big screen adaptation, as well as the miniseries made by the Sci-Fi Channel in 2000. Both fail to do justice to the book. The Lynch film is a mess, partly because the studio imposed its own edit on the film (though personally I find most David Lynch productions to be equally incoherent), partly because it was made to conform to a standard of 1980s sci-fi films (compare Lynch’s Dune with Blade Runner, The Terminator, or Return of the Jedi, for instance, not to mention later films like Robocop).
All of which makes the prospect of creating a new version of
Dune daunting, if not a little insane. This book, which many consider
unfilmable (though come on, it’s not Ulysses or Infinite Jest), has resisted
cinematic fidelity for more than half a century. Why should it reveal its true
self now?
Yet this version (at least the first part released so far)
is a masterpiece and an instant classic of science fiction cinema. There are
some changes to the book, which cannot be avoided in lifting a book from the
page, but it hits all the main beats of the original narrative and far more is
retained than one would expect. It is, for instance, a minor plot point that
Paul Atreides mother, Jessica, is not married to his father, Leto. That fact though
is included in the dialogue despite making little difference to the plot one
way or another. It is such minor attention to detail that makes this seem like
a film made with fans in mind. It’s possible to watch the movie without having
read the book, but this feels, finally, like a love letter to Dune and its
readers. Though like 2001: A Space Odyssey, a reading of the novel helps to
flesh out the film.
While the 1984 version might have been weighed down by
contemporary 80s science fiction, the 2021 update instead luxuriates in its
homage to science fiction and fantasy from the last half century. The opening
scenes on the planet Caladan seem to nod to the landscapes of Peter Jackson’s
Lord of the Rings films and to the TV adaptation of Game of Thrones. The sleek,
tall ships that land on Arrakis (aka Dune), clearly take their influence from
the Imperial craft found in Star Wars (Dune perhaps returning the favour and
stealing back from George Lucas). And who can witness the central structure of
the Atreides stronghold on Arrakis and not see the Tyrell Corporation pyramid from
Blade Runner rendered in sandstone?
Beyond even cinematic homage, however, are the references to
recent world history. A Hollywood blockbuster about an imperial power
overtaking stewardship of a desert world and its Middle Eastern inspired
inhabitants can hardly avoid weaving into its tapestry elements of the invasion
and occupation of Iraq. House Atreides brings with it an invading force and if
the stronghold is not actually under siege (not by the indigenous population at
least), the obvious analogue is with the American Green Zone established in
Iraq following the 2003 invasion.
Again, it is hardly important to the plot, but the attention
to detail contributes to the world building and continues a fine tradition in
science fiction of taking contemporary human concerns and transporting them to
a sufficient remove in space or time so we can consider their implications from
a distance. Even cinematic war tropes are threaded in, with Stellan Skarsgård’s
portrayal of Baron Harkonnen borrowing so heavily from Marlon Brando’s
portrayal of Kurtz in Apocalypse Now, you expect him to moan, “The horror.” at
any moment.
Dune is perhaps more depressingly relevant than ever,
written as it was by a man concerned with the environmental issues of his day.
The desert might be seen as a metaphor for the slow erosion of the natural
world. Even today, we see China building defences to prevent the encroachment
of the Gobi desert into its towns and cities and sub-Saharan countries planting
acres of trees along the desert for the selfsame reason. While the omnipresent
threat of nuclear war might have abated somewhat since the 1960s, climate
change is just as real and disrespectful of public opinion or political
bargaining. Dune and Arrakis are manifestations of a world reclaimed by nature
and rendered all but uninhabitable without survival equipment. We should heed
the warning, but probably we never will.
The inclusion of many actors of colour and of Middle Eastern
heritage to the cast of this Dune is important, though I’m sure the usual
suspects were crying, “Woke!” like a nervous tick. Yet when we consider one of
Herbert’s influences for the plot of Dune was the life of T E Lawrence,
particularly the film, Lawrence of Arabia, where most of the Arabian characters
are played by white actors in black face (most notably Alex Guinness, who
would, of course, go on to play Obi Wan Kenobi in Star Wars), it is a step in
the right direction. I always think we should take a tally of all the non
Caucasian people who have been played by white actors in the history of movies,
TV and theatre and when that amount falls into arrears with all the white
characters played by people of colour, then the anti-woke brigade can have
cause to complain. Even then, we should probably ignore them.
The Villeneuve adaptation isn’t entirely perfect. Jessica is
a little too passive a character in the first half of the film and unlike the
ideal for a witch of the Bene Gesserit. Paul likewise is a little too Emo. Though
as he is fifteen in the book, his portrayal by Timothée Chalamet is perhaps a
closer approximation to a sulky teenager than either Kyle MacLachlan or Alex
Newman in the film and TV series respectively. Chalamet seems closer to the
character described in the novel, although in reality he is only the same age MacLachlan
and Newman were when they played the role.
No film is ever going to be an exact replica of the book. Nor should it be. Screen and book have different grammar and syntax associated with them. Like the difference between mainstream music and jazz. Though in rereading the novel, Frank Herbert was obviously influenced by the visual language of cinema. Dune is a book that moves from scene to scene more like a film than the fluid narrative structure of many novels, where one chapter blends seamlessly into the next. Dune often jumps in place and time with barely a mention of what happened in the interim. Like Ishmael’s journey from Manhattan to New Bedford, that is dispensed with in a sentence in the second chapter of Moby Dick[1], so House Atreides are on Caladan one moment and already arrived at Arrakis in the very next chapter.
It is therefore odd to think how long Dune has resisted a truly faithful big screen adaptation, given its cinematic construction. We can only hope this year’s sequel sticks the landing as gracefully as Part 1 managed the takeoff.
I am perhaps lucky in the sense that I have avoided watching previous versions of Dune until very recently and only after seeing the Villeneuve film for the first time. Both the Recency Fallacy and First Love Fallacy come into play. There are no previous versions to erase from my memory. This version of Dune is the definitive one. All other versions are poor imitations. Vive la Villeneuve.
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