Film Review: “Dune: Part Two” is the sci-fi epic we’ve been waiting for
Like Dune Part One, Dune Part Two begins with a grave proclamation delivered in a haunting alien language: “Power over Spice is power over all.” It sets the solemn tone to follow perfectly. Leaping beyond the bounds of a typical sci-fi movie, Dune Part Two cements itself as a gripping tragedy rendered with gorgeous intensity.
What makes Dune: Part One and Dune Part Two a cut above is Denis Villeneneuve’s penchant for prioritising visual storytelling over reams of exposition. The plot, despite its many moving parts, is easy enough to follow but there are elements to be inferred and ambiguity hovers over the characters’ actions. At first, we root for young Paul Atreides. His quest to avenge his fallen family by killing the violent Harkonnens has a timeless heroic grandeur to it – no doubt enhanced by Timothee Chalamet’s utterly convincing transformation from boy to man and Hans Zimmer’s pulse-pounding score.
But consider Princess Irulan’s opening voiceover, which conveys disappointment in her father, the Emperor, whose insecurity and pliable nature ignited the war between the Atreides and Harkonnens: “My father was always guided by the calculus of power.”
When Paul, victorious, the new Emperor, orders his fanatical followers the Fremen to lead his enemies to paradise, we realise the original sin hasn’t been understood – much less conquered - and greater horrors will soon follow. Rarely has a film’s final scene been so rousing and, well, disheartening.
Denis Villeneuve’s films, often laden with bass, doom, and a cool minimalist aesthetic, have hardly been accused of being comedies. But he deploys humour expertly here. The southern Fremen cling to a deep belief in a prophesised messiah, who will create a paradise from the hellish desert planet on which they live. They see the signs in Paul Atreides, who insists he is not the Messiah. He isn’t, of course, there is no such thing in Dune, but his attempts to convince them otherwise hilariously result in them being even more convinced he is. It’s cute until it isn’t, until the thought virus has been fed to such a level that their humanity is obliterated. The humour provides much-needed levity to a serious-minded epic, yes, but also conveys the theme of religious fanaticism with artful efficiency.
Manipulation is the recurring theme here, and no faction in Dune better embodies that than the sisterhood of the Bene Gesserit, who can alter their own body chemistry with superhuman precision. That kind of frightening control extends outward, shaping politics, creating prophecies, and ultimately guiding humanity’s destiny. Whether they’re malevolent or benevolent is a matter of debate, but the mystique is undeniably captivating and adds another beautiful layer of tension and ambiguity.
Denis Villeneuve, in these two parts of a whole, has created that special kind of blockbuster, that’s as thrilling as it is thoughtful.
