In preparation for Legendary Pictures’ epic IMAX re-imagining of Frank Hebert’s Dune, I decided to go back to the original 1980’s film adaptation by David Lynch. I had already seen this film, but I lacked one final piece of the Bene Gesserit puzzle that opened its infinite doorways, the original book.
Published in 1965, Frank Herbert’s classic is considered one of the best science fiction books ever written. As a sci-fi fan, I felt a certain obligation to read the true tale of Arrakis. The space opera to end all space operas, and as a Star Wars fan I was intrigued. The original film left zero imprint in me as a child. I recall the comical makeup being bad even for 80’s standards. I recall never thinking for one second that twenty-something year old Kyle MacLachlan was a believable fifteen year old. And the less said about the vast majority of special effects the better. It’s a bad film on its own merit, mediocrely directed and painfully acted.
But then, like Paul before me, I drank from the Water of Life - and boy was it spicy.
Outside a very short list of books I consider to be “mandatory reading” for most people, I seldom recommend genre books. The stigma genre literature gets, even in the age of cinematic box office being reigned by superhero and sci-fi films, is quite a harsh one. And God help us if it's the dreaded "young adult" type. And while Dune doesn't fall under the vast umbrella that is YA, it does serve as a sort of progenitor for a lot of sci-fi stories that currently inhabit modern pop culture. As such, Frank Hebert's Dune is a must read for genre fans, but also the general pop culture-consuming crowd. Because of the mainstream explosion that was HBO's Game of Thrones, audiences' appetite for complex storytelling and interweaving narratives has increased. Shows like Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, and Lost were the sort of training wheels to get to this point. This makes the 2021 adaptation loom into the front of genre fans, and audiences looking for a truly different experience. The book is a labyrinthian nobility-fueled conflict that winds up engulfing an entire Universe into a holy war of cosmic proportions; seemingly impossible to make into a film. At least, that was the thought until cocaine fueled 1980's cinema decided to take a swing at it. A new vision for Frank Hebert's work, in one of the most creative eras for genre films.
With that vision in mind, I wanted to watch David Lynch's adaptation of Dune, with a clearer picture of the era and the book it spawned from.
What have I done?
I have seen some pretty terrible adaptations, looking squarely at you Dragonball: Evolution (a disgustingly bad title to match!), but holy sh*t this is bad. From the questionable decisions in casting (not even Jürgen Prochnow's steely Duke Leto Atreides seems to give a hell about this asinine script), to some truly baffling science fiction tropey sequences that could only be either satire or garishly executed in the most hilarious of fashions. It is almost a spectacle of mediocrity, illuminated briefly by moments of utter confusion that not only warrant laughter, but seemingly command it with the voice. I understand the confines of film as a medium compared to a book, but the filmmaking technique of just doing voice over for the cast's thoughts (and they are a REAL thinky types, all these characters) in the vast majority of scenes is both incredibly lazy and outright dumb. I'm sure there's some sort of bullshit "Snyder Cut" fiasco that fans of this abomination would claim is superior and closer to David Fynch's vision, whatever that may even be, but it truly doesn't matter. Because no amount of deleted scenes, or extra footage this monstrosity has, can fix its irreparable core. This film is awkwardly acted, underwhelmingly scored, and edited in such a way that the gargantuan task of telling the story of Paul Atreides' ascension from being the son of a Duke to a goddamn living-breathing god lands in such a violent thud that it matches the molassic pacing of the entire film. I cannot wait for Dennis Villenueve's vision in the 2021 adaptation because as a child of the 80's I am embarrassed by this cynical atrocity that Lynch gave his audiences.
Patrick Stewart is almost unrecognizable as Gurney Halleck, both as a character and an actor. Never before have I seen so much talent wasted on screen, and I regularly watched WWE programming for decades, so I know a thing or two about wasted talent. Virginia Madsen as Princess Irulan, a character whose importance in the first book hinges upon as a work of text, is used in the film as a sort of narrator but never truly codifies as a character involved in much or any of the movie itself. Every bit of this film is hurtful to watch, and agonizing for any book fan. The homophobic context (See: every scene involving the Harkonnens) doesn't help either. Then there’s the Fremen in this adaptation, because talk about taking all agency and combat prowess from their book counterparts. It's almost like watching a ferocious beast being defanged and declawed while you watch helplessly, knowing the beast deserves better. It serves as a clever, albeit, accidental, analogy for the in-universe treatment of the sandworms and the spice melange that fuels this universe. It only feels meta because we are living in times when conversations about the environment feel more real, for this reason the 1984 adaptation feels rushed, cynical, and outright defiant of Frank's original intent. It's bad. Like Sting (the singer, not the Icon) rolling around acting tough while wearing a metal space chastity belt bad.
I have a rule about trying to look for positives, and there are two positives for this abysmal film. One, the costume and set design, for 1980's standards, is actually solid. I can almost see the dollar amount of every minute detail on film. From the Bene Gesserit costumes (the baldness *is* a choice) to some of the grander sets like the Emperor's Throne room, there's a variety in the sets and costumes that should be commended. It's a shame the script, direction, and acting are just so contrastingly lacking. The other positive is the source material of course. Without Frank Hebert's text, this movie would be considered the ravings of a lunatic made manifest by the medium. But it is this source that allows the movie and story to painfully move forward, much like Paul Atreides' decision to prevent a cosmic jihad, and pushing through in extravagant fashion and with a lot in its mind.
Rating:
I need someone to make me "negative" Straw Hats, because I can't, in good conscience, give this movie anything above a zero.
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