I was dreading the upcoming release of Denis Villeneuve’s take on Dune, and not at all because of Denis. I have a long history of walking the tightrope on my interest in science fiction, specifically the kind that drenches the world building in political intrigue, long histories, or semi-realized special abilities, of which Dune is guilty of all three. The bright spot in all of this was the directors previous takes on two major science fiction landmarks of the past decade, Blade Runner 2049 and Arrival, some of the most competent sci-fi films I had ever seen. Many modern sci-fi films tend to go for more visual flare that send audiences on a sensory roller coaster rather than more human fare of morals and ethics against a foreign, but familiar background. In my opinion, as a book, Dune is a tome enjoyed by only the deepest sci-fi fans. People who want to live, feel, and taste every nook and cranny of a fictional place beyond time and space. I found myself face down, asleep in several paragraphs of the book over my many attempts to complete it, back in the days when I wanted to earn some sense of nerd cred. So color me pleasantly surprised when Villeneuve’s latest film streamlined everything I hated about the book, making an unbearable experience into an elegant tale.

I apologize for belaboring this, but I never enjoyed the mintua of Dune. It had some interesting characters, some intriguing moments, and a deep world, but even thinking about it would put me to sleep. I used to count Spice instead of sheep to get to sleep. It didn’t help that David Lynch’s version was an uninhabitable wasteland not meant for humans to live much less watch. When you watch the 1984 “classic”, the thing that always stood out to me was that nothing about the backdrop, the places the humans lived, looked human at all. They all looked to be living in the ruins of ancient civilizations left behind by extinct species with the design sense of mold or some other kind of naturally occurring geometry. No one walks, talks, or acts like normal people, disconnecting audiences from the human aspect, which arguably is the soul of this story. The reason I mention all of this is because Villeneuve’s Dune is the complete opposite of all of this. His characters act and speak like real people in a world that feels more familiar than foreign. Their religions and histories are more inline as they were probably meant to be, closer to something in our own lives. The technology is art coming to life, popping right off your D&D basement walls. It marries the realistic future of his Blade Runner 2049 with the very contemporary Arrival, as if both films were leading to this. If anything, Dune made me appreciate his catalog all the more. It made me believe that maybe, just maybe… even Akira might be possible in his hands? But let’s not talk about my pipe dreams. (Maybe he could fix Ghost in the Shell…)

This film is made all the more real by its cadre of excellent actors, first and foremost Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atradies and his onscreen mother Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica Atradies. Oscar Isaac has range, and while I never imagined him as much of a father figure, as a King he fits right in as Duke Leto Atradies. They have a chemistry of regal and royal, creating a distance that one might imagine royal families have, close but not too close. Stellan Skarsgård terrifies the audience as Baron Harkonnen with his sheer presence, and his nephew played by Dave Bautista really lean into the clever madness their characters are meant to portray. I could gush about every actor in this film, they all did a tremendous job bringing the unspoken words to life in action, it made me happy to finally see the narrative take center stage while the world built takes its proper place as the backdrop. The camera work almost pays homage to classic 70’s and 80’s B-movie sci-fi, daring to hold the camera in place longer, stare into the characters more deeply, and step away from the action a bit more daringly. The way they play with light might hurt your eyes in a dark theater at first, jumping between the brightest and darkest moments a bit too quickly, but once your eyes are adjusted, it makes for some powerful moments. They walk long hallways, filled with golden art that impresses that these royals live in a museum, well designed, cold, and hard; like a real museum the only living things are the people and the works they are viewing.

I am actually having a hard time digesting the film, considering how much I disliked the source material and every version of it since its inception. The book, the film, and my budding teenage nerdom all culminated in me wanting to belong while rejecting the very thing people around me loved. I found my way eventually, and in a way, this story ended up helping me find my way. It helped me learn to push back, find where I stand, and still find a way to belong. And now, finally, I feel like I can see what all those other nerds were seeing as they read the words. I can finally parse the magic of the Spice. All told, you should see this film if you are in any way a fan of the director, the book, or science fiction. It really is an incredible spectacle.