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It is a truth almost universally acknowledged that books are always better than the films that claim to be them. And although in my opinion this is true for Frank Herbert’s 1965 magnum opus, Dune, the films that have been inspired by it are arguably true works of art in their own right. Is there another science-fiction novel that is as elusive, complex, and labyrinthine as Dune? And can such a novel ever hope to be represented in a film with as much aplomb as it deserves? It’s given life to two feature films, a TV series, and a cinematic experience that never was, namely, Jodorowsky’s Dune. This is the novel that has been claimed as the muse for George Lucas’ massive franchise Star Wars, as well as many other science-fiction films. When I first read Dune, I was around twelve years old. This large tome gifted my younger self with sage advice such as ‘don’t sit with your back to the door’, something I still tend to think about to this day (although no Harkonnen hunter-seekers have come after me, one can never be too careful). The text itself was dense, heavily laden with political subtext and metaphor, as well as charged with spiritual imagery, and it took me ages to wade through it. Did I understand it? Not really.

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Yet, there is something about this novel that makes it addictive. The rich world-building of Herbert introduces the reader to a universe in which geo-politics are now enacted on a cross-planetary level, with the feuds between noble families being centred upon raw resources and vast wealth, just as they are today. Dune was written to warn against the devastating consequences of ecological rapacity and tyrannical governance, with a young boy at the heart of the narrative, entrusted with keeping it all together. Many films have been made that star a central character whose task it is to save the entire universe from greed and power, usually leading them down a path of heroism and subsequent self-discovery. What makes the narrative of Dune so difficult to adapt is not the messaging contained within it, but the intricacies of its macrocosm, with its diverse imagery and the enormity of its cosmos. Just like Tolkien in his The Silmarillion, Herbert has written his own hagiography, with Paul Atreides as its saint, hero, and philosopher.

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Someone who truly understood the gravity of the novel was film director and artist Alejandro Jodorowsky, whose vision for this epic was too grand to ever be attempted. Jodorowsky’s version of Dune would have included a musical soundtrack by Pink Floyd, and starred names such as Orson Welles, Mick Jagger, and Salvador Dalí. The story behind the failed production was so dramatic that it got made into a documentary, filled with bizarre stories such as when Dalí wanted $100,000 per hour for his acting, as he sat on a throne made of twin dolphins, as well as a 10-14 hour expected running time, something that shocked every movie studio in Hollywood and abroad. The artistic talents assembled by Jodorowsky created a script the size of the Bible, and a storyboard of 3,000 drawings that depicted the entire film as imagined by Jodorowsky and Jean “Moebius” Giraud. Jodorowsky is convinced that it is these storyboards, sent all around Hollywood for the studios viewing pleasure, that brought films such as the Terminator series, The Fifth Element, and Star Wars to future big screens. It is certainly an indisputable fact that the artistic team he assembled went on to help create the cult classic blockbuster Alien.

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Unfortunately, Jodorowsky was never able to realise his vision, and due to a lack of funding, the rights to Dune were resold to Dino De Laurentiis. It was then that filmmaker David Lynch got his chance to create the first iteration of Dune to exist on film. This movie was a complete monetary failure, making ten million dollars less than its cost of production, and Lynch himself disavowing the final cut. Interestingly, Lynch had originally scripted two films and had to compress his scripts into a single feature. He apparently dislikes the fruit of his efforts so much that he refuses to speak on it in interviews and has repeatedly declined offers to create a director’s cut. All of these things aside, however, the film itself is now considered to be a campy classic, and it is certainly visually dazzling. The enormity of the optics and the cinematography, as well as the costuming and the music, all contributes to a unique viewing experience that is truly strange and avant-garde. The actors in the film were cast well, with Kyle MacLachlan of Twin Peaks fame making his film debut as Paul and an intense performance by Norwegian actor Jürgen Prochnow as Duke Leto. There are some outlandishly eccentric castings, such as Sting (what does he contribute to the film? I am still unsure but his outfits are on-point) and Patrick Stewart (sci-fi series crossover?! Yes, please, engage). Those involved in the film’s production had hoped that it would rival Star Wars in a more adult-fashion, but the end result was something akin to a campy B-flick. Critics absolutely trashed it after its release, criticising everything from its script to its characters. Essentially, the film suffered the fate of many other literary works that were adapted into film, losing its soul and its philosophical purpose underneath the splendours of Technicolour. The gargantuan task of altering a text hundreds of pages long into a two-hour storyline was too much for an entire consortium of film legends. And so, Dune was left in the public consciousness as just another enjoyable, if somewhat disappointing and strange, feature film. It was briefly resurrected as a short-lived series made for television, which was critically well-received but never gained any traction.

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Enter Denis Villeneuve, the man who had taken up Ridley Scott’s mantle in directing Blade-Runner 2049. In a fashion almost akin to the arrival of the Kwisatz Haderach themselves, Villeneuve assembled a cast of industry power players and set to work crafting the film he had maintained he would not touch until he had finished learning from projects such as Arrival and the Blade Runner sequel. He was able to get permission to make two films, just as Lynch had wished to do, and began crafting a narrative that was uniquely himself, choosing to take his inspiration directly from the book rather than from Jodorowsky or Lynch, so that his perspective was fresh, with ‘a different sensibility’. He wanted to focus on the narrative as a cautionary tale for over-exploitation and over-consumption, through the lens of youthful action and proactivity. He also highlighted the female roles in a way they had not been before, being quoted as saying ‘Femininity was there in the book, but I thought it should be up front’. Hans Zimmer provides a characteristically astounding musical score to accompany the beautifully crafted and sweeping visuals, and the actors chosen for the film bring new life and vibrance to their characters… and of course, there’s Zendaya and Timothee Chalamet. What more could we ask for? At 2 hours and 35 minutes, the film feels as though we are truly taken on a journey, both onscreen, and within ourselves. Frighteningly, the intrigue and machinations presented within the film seem almost too familiar, and the parallels that we can draw with our modern society have only increased since the novel’s initial publication. Is fast fashion our Harkonnen spice mine, constantly churning out product and choking the earth with excess? Are the Fremen the Indigenous people around the globe who are consistently sidelined and ignored in their pleas for help and the acknowledgment of the exploitative and genocidal conditions that they have been subjected to?  We are living on both Caladan and Arrakis, as climate change raises our seas and burns our plains. Villeneuve’s interpretation brings these questions to the surface in his first installment. I guess we shall see if he continues a moral deep dive in his sequel. I know that I can’t wait to see for myself.