Dune (1984)

	Sign In Sign-Up

Dune(1984)

It either tried too hard or didn't try hard enough

Maybe it's the fact that I'm living in a CGI age, but this foray into Frank Herbert's world by director David Lynch (Mulholland Drive, Lost Highway) comes off more like a goofy Power Rangers episode than the space epic everyone was shooting for. Herbert's Dune series is not for the Star Wars fans: the science behind the planet is explored (sometimes tediously), the cast of characters is better absorbed with a handy set of Spark Notes, and the religious and sociological overtones sometimes require a college degree. It's a genuine epic, full of struggles, bildungsroman and an overall Shakespearian setting that has a habit of blowing up in your face almost every step of the way. There's a lot of things blow-ups in this film too, but not necessarily for the dramatic effect so desperately needed.

Kyle MacLachlan is Paul Atreides, the son of Duke Leto (Jürgen Prochnow) who finds himself thrust into the role of Messiah once his father is killed by a rival family on the desert planet Arrakis (Dune). He has suspicious powers--early on, he is tested by the Bene Gesserit, a clan of female wizards who want to see if he could be the Kwisatz Haderack (a geek-version of Christ), and manages to develop these powers while struggling in exile with the Fremen, Dune's indigenous desert clan. Paul's eventual rebirth as Muad'Dib is sandwiched between scenes of the rival family Harkonnen and their management of the planet the House Atreides was supposed to have, and while we see enough of them in the end to applaud once they get their come-uppance, none of the Harkonnens are going to replace the Imperial Fleet or the Klingons in the annals of Sci Fi Bad Guys.

With the Sci Fi Network's 2000 production of Dune, a glossing over of the plot is perhaps permissible; besides, if Lynch couldn't compress it satisfactorally, I'm not even going to try to do likewise in a lousy 300-word review. What's definitely worth noting at present is the film's use of sets and costumes to create a definitely otherworldly ambience to the film. Four different planets are present, and through a careful set design and makeup effects, the film manages to switch between worlds quite convincingly. The Fremens' stillsuits (jumpsuits designed to recycle water for the body's use), the infamous sandworms, the battleships, the body shields and even sections of the battle royale are all worth every penny spent. The outdoor sets are convincing as well, although, given the fact that production teams spent months hand-clearing 25 square miles of Mexican desert, such credibility should be a given.

No, the part about Dune that makes me want to choke recycled urine from my stillsuit isn't the sight of the Baron Harkonnen's rotting face, or even Paul's hand burning in a fire. It's Lynch's expository copout--he relies on annoying voiceovers and character thoughts' vocalizations to explain to the audience just what the hell is going on. Rather than use the more subtle methods of visual storytelling, Lynch has Paul's voice explain to us what the Bene Gesserits are, what he's so pissed about, what he's been dreaming about...everything down to why he wants the Baron dead, even after we've seen this guy behave like a royal prick all throughout the movie. To be fair, an alternative method of exposition would have made the film twice as long, but the end result is still a mishmash of commentary interposed with action sequences that makes the climax harder to digest.

The amount of cameos is surprising: Patrick Stewart (not yet famous), Max von Sydow (already famous), Sting (at his peak of fame) and Brad Dourif (who will probably never be as famous as he deserves). The real lead characters, however, have got to be the sandworms, Sure, by today's standards, they look like giant condoms, and even 1990's Tremors kicks their asses in terms of believability. But to make a bunch of blue-eyed quasi-savages jumping on a 50-foot worm's back even remotely convincing is no less a stroke of genius, especially given a lack of computer effects. While I appreciate this film more for its opportunity to pair Lynch and Dino Delaurentis for Blue Velvet three years later, it definitely deserves an entry in the Things We Should Have Known Better Than to Take On entry in the Twentieth Century Film Index. Lynch, thy name was ambition.

-Long