Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Dune’ on HBO Max, a Massive, Handsome, but Chilly Sci-fi Epic

After a theatrical run in the fall of 2021, Dune is finally back on HBO Max. Frank Herbert’s sweeping, complicated sci-fi epic novel has a tumultuous page-to-screen history, first as a (regrettably) unrealized project conceived by cult hero Alejandro Jodorowsky in the early 1970s, then in 1984 as David Lynch’s only failure, and later as a 2000 Sci Fi Channel original miniseries that suffered the not-so-great fate of being a Sci Fi Channel original miniseries. “Impossible to adapt,” they said of Dune, but director Denis Villeneuve had already achieved the impossible — making a Blade Runner sequel a near-masterpiece, of course — and was therefore undaunted. He assembled a star-studded cast, pulled together a $165 million budget, set up production smack in the middle of the blazing desert, watched the pandemic delay the film’s release, didn’t particularly care for Warner Bros.’ decision to let people watch it at home on HBO Max — and put the words Part One under the title, all but assuring that the two-and-a-half hours we’re watching is really only half a movie.

DUNE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Let me preface this by saying that all the sci-fi proper nouns are killing me. KILLING ME. Anyway, the year is 10191. The desert planet of Arrakis is hot property because that’s where “spice” comes from — a drug that extends human life and renders lightspeed space travel possible. The galaxy or universe or whatever is ruled by an empire that’s divided into factions, and it’s all rather complicated, but we needn’t get rabbit-holed here. Villeneuve makes it fairly clear, and I’ll attempt to simplify even further: There’s the ruling Harkonnen, evil jerks who give control of the spice mining operation on Arrakis to the House of Atreides, led by Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac). It’s a trap, and Leto knows it, but doesn’t have the power to say no. So he’s gotta pack up the fam and move to the desert, where they’ll not only face hostile natives known as the Fremen and sandstorms that can slice through metal, but also massive sandworms that try to eat the crap out of anything and anyone that’s trying to steal their spice. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.

Leto’s son is Paul (Timothy Chalamet), who’s not a boy and not yet a man and almost but not quite a legit movie character. He’s the heir to the House of Atreides, which sounds like a suckass gig now, what with the worms and all. He’s in training to be a warrior, under the mentorship of Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin) and Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa), so we get sparring sequences in which Paul does some sweet moves with a long dagger, while wearing an invisible electronic shield to protect his body. Additionally, Paul possesses weird ethereal psychic powers, the result of his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), who belongs to a cult of nun-witches known as the Bene Gesserit. She teaches Paul how to use “the voice,” a vocal tone that allows one to control another person. He’s also having visionary dreams about Zendaya — and who can blame him? — because she plays a Fremen girl named Chani.

Is destiny afoot? It sure seems to be, especially after a Bene Gesserit elder, who has the sinister authorial grandiosity of 200 Mirrens or two Swintons but is actually just one Charlotte Rampling, says he might be a golden boy chosen one as prophesied by the ancients, etc. What with a lot of somber pomp and circumstance involving robes and flags and bagpipes and assemblies of soldiers, Leto, Lady Jessica and Paul assume control of the spice refinery on Arrakis. We get some scenes with Baron Harkonnen (an unrecognizable Stellan Skarsgaard), who looks like Brando in Apocalypse Now crossed with Immortan Joe and the space slug from The Empire Strikes Back, and his warrior nephew (Dave Bautista) as they plan to betray House Atreides.

Meanwhile, the Atreides get to woik, learning about spice harvesters and buzzing their dragonfly ornithopters over “worm territory.” You have to wear special suits when you’re out in the desert or else you’ll dry up and blow away lickety-split. Leto hopes to avoid any hostility from the Fremen by engaging them in some hard, pipe-hittin’ diplomacy; they’re led by Stilgar (Javier Bardem) and live in tunnel communities beneath the sand. Paul keeps having the dreams, and thinks he’s seeing the future; he has a Spiritual Moment in the desert with a sandworm rumbling beneath him. This movie will eventually come to an end, but the story won’t, so brace yourselves for a marked lack of dramatic resolution. “This is only the beginning,” says one of the characters. Is that a threat?

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Dune sometimes reminded me of the time I fell asleep on the couch watching The Sheltering Sky, another very long movie set in the desert. But there are also times when Villeneuve marries the steady, measured pace and sumptuous wide-open spaces of Blade Runner 2049 — especially the abandoned-Vegas sequence — with the visionary desert world of Mad Max: Fury Road. Maybe this is just a long way of saying Dune is very much a mixed bag.

Performance Worth Watching: I’m still shocked to learn that that’s Stellan Skarsgaard beneath all that blue paint and prosthetic gloop. In a movie full of stoic characters, he at least does something memorable.

Memorable Dialogue: An actual sentence/declaration made in this movie: “Desert power.” With a period. Because there are no exclamation points in the year 10191.

Sex and Skin: None.

Our Take: I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

BUT SERIOUSLY, I can’t take Dune seriously because it takes itself too seriously. This isn’t to say Villeneuve doesn’t give the material the fresh vision it needs; it’s a marvel to look at, and the story is presented with the clarity it requires, although you’ll still want to pay close attention and not chomp your Cheetos too loud during dialogue sequences (compare it to Lynch’s Dune, which drops so much exposition on us, it’s like being buried beneath two dozen mattresses). But it’s still somber and dry — like, I dunno, something vast and tan with very little moisture? — and a little too tied up in its sense of ceremony to encourage our emotional involvement. That goes for the grand cinematography, state-of-the-art CG effects and the overall massive scope of the project, technical exercises that rarely cease to impress but suck all the air from the drama. Are we supposed to care about the fate of the Atreides, the dastardly behavior of the bad guys and the foreordination of Paul, beyond their existence in a movie plot?

Two factors may be at play here: If you’ve read Herbert’s book — which I haven’t — the context may be deeper and the rewards greater. And watching it at home on a TV — which I did, since we here at Decider are all about the streaming experience — no matter how large it may be, doesn’t seem to do it justice. I sense the potential for greater immersion in the theatrical presentation, although that may not atone for the lack of a sense of dramatic consequence. (Blade Runner 2049 was still thoroughly engrossing at home.)

There’s also a third factor, that Dune is all setup and world-building for a humdinger of a second movie, although you’d think, after two-and-a-half hours, a star like Chalamet might find an emotional foothold in the material, which is heavily adorned with names, places and spiritual and political implications, but not enough recognizable human behavior. Villeneuve stages a few exhilarating action sequences which probably will blow away IMAXgoers, but there’s only a hint of sandworm spectacle, and the pseudo-divine implications of these great and uncontrollable forces of nature. Far too often, the film is a strikingly handsome bore. There’s a point where Baron Harkonnen says, “The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, but a reality to experience,” which sounds like a defense of the movie. At this point in this incomplete story, I don’t buy it.

Our Call: Dune — and Villeneuve, by association — may deserve a second chance in a movie theater. But as far as the at-home experience goes, SKIP IT and call me when Part Two is ready to roll.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream Dune on HBO Max