2024
Horizon: An American Saga - Chapter 1 (R)
11/07/24 22:24
Starring: Kevin Costner
June 2024
Warning! This is NOT a movie review. This is a critique of the film. Intended to initiate a dialogue, the following analysis explores various aspects of the film and may contain spoilers. For concerns over objectionable content, please first refer to one of the many parental movie guide websites. Ratings are based on a four star system. Happy reading!
1859
San Pedro Valley
Some Caucasian settlers mark off property boundaries near a river. Two indigenous boys assume the strange behaviors are part of a game.
Sometime later, an old man rides up to the river and finds the dead bodies of the settlers. He buries them and moves on.
Montana Territory
A woman shoots a man with a rifle, puts a baby in her carriage, and rides away.
Back at the first location, an Apache war party burns down a village that’s sprung up near the river, brutally killing men, women and children. Only a handful of people survive.
Wyoming Territory
A man arrives in a mining town and immediately finds trouble when he befriends a local prostitute, who unwittingly maneuvers him into a deadly shootout.
And on and on the story goes…meandering like one of the movie’s many rivers.
From this scattershot synopsis of Kevin Costner’s Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1, you’ve probably guessed that the story is a loose association of Western vignettes, some of which eventually merge, while others remain standalone subplots. Costner, who served as actor, director, co-writer and producer on the movie, sunk $38 million of his own money into this passion project. The first of a planned four-movie series, Horizon returns the renowned Yellowstone actor to familiar terrain (Silverado, Dances with Wolves, Wyatt Earp) and is the first Western film he’s directed since the truly fine range war drama Open Range (2003).
When standing behind the camera, Costner’s goal was to match the quality of the Westerns from Hollywood’s classical period…a tall order. He adopts many elements from Golden Era films (continuity editing, cause and effect storytelling and “invisible style” framing) for his character scenes. By contrast, Costner employs many modern cinematic techniques (swish pans, quick cutting and handheld camera filming) for the movie’s handful of fight scenes. While the film’s locations are absolutely spectacular, my preference would’ve been for Costner to let the vista shots “breathe” a little more (like the many exquisite prairie shots in Dances with Wolves) instead of immediately cutting back to the characters. But maybe he was trying to trim action where he could due to the movie’s interminable length.
Costner’s performance, as drifter Hayes Ellison, is typically understated and typically solid. Joining Costner onscreen is a panoply of veteran stars and character actors. Sam Worthington (Avatar) is particularly good as the leader of a cavalry troop. While Michael Rooker (The Walking Dead) delivers a fine performance as a cavalry soldier, his thick Irish brogue makes it difficult to understand what he’s saying. Sienna Miller (American Sniper) and Jena Malone (Sucker Punch) make the most of their limited parts. Other familiar faces pepper the cast, like Will Patton, Tim Guinee, Danny Huston, and Giovanni Ribisi. For my money, the two best performances in the movie come from Luke Wilson, who plays the unelected leader of a wagon train who’s just trying to keep the peace, and Abbey Lee, who portrays Mary, the duplicitous prostitute who selects Hayes as her mark.
With so many superlative aspects of the film, why such a low rating? It’s all about the story, or lack thereof. The script, written by Costner, Jon Baird and Mark Kasdan, is deficient on nearly every level. Simply put, if you like movies with intricate plots, finely-crafted dialog and at least a little levity, Horizon isn’t for you. (Also, if you have bladder issues, Horizon definitely isn’t for you.)
Despite scant character development, we’re just expected to join Costner on his joyless journey into a ferocious frontier. Problem is, we barely get to know one set of characters before he shifts focus to another group of characters, and so on. When the Apaches attack the settlers, we’re sorry that they’re slaughtered, but we have no emotional investment in the characters since we just met them and know nothing about them.
Compounding this issue, we’re often dropped into the middle of a scene with characters we don’t know. By the time we kinda’ figure out what’s going on, we jump to another storyline. Rinse and repeat. It was literally halfway through the film (when Mary decides to leave with Hayes) when I first felt some forward momentum in the plot.
The strangest aspect of Horizon is that it ends with a dialog-free montage of clips from future movies in the series. This stunt reminded me of the preview of Back to the Future Part III at the end of Back to the Future Part II. But here, there isn’t any on-screen text or a voice-over narration to explain what’s happening. The movie ends with Ribisi peering out a shop window with a look of bewilderment on his face. After investing three hours in this substandard jaunt into the Old West, we know exactly how he feels.
Though faith was a significant part of most people’s lives during this period of American history, Horizon is extremely dismissive in the way it treats religion; it presents Judaism, Catholicism and Christianity as relics from the past, dead and buried in the sin-stained wilderness. Sure, we occasionally encounter a Christian symbol, like the cross that stubbornly stands atop the only remaining wall of a dilapidated mission, or when a man buries a trio of bodies and places three wooden crosses above their graves, but that’s about the extent of anything overtly religious in the movie.
The only direct reference to the Bible is when a woman reads from Psalm 23 right before she ignites a keg of gunpowder and sends everyone (her family and the encroaching Apaches) in the immediate vicinity to kingdom come. Ironically, she doesn’t adhere to the very scripture she quotes, which admonishes her to “fear no evil.”
If Costner’s goal with Horizon was to portray the true history of the American West for modern audiences and future generations, he’s failed miserably. His version of the Old West is replete with bitter, vile and unsavory characters who lack even basic morality, with nary a God-fearing soul to be found in the rascal-ridden realm.
We’re taken inside several bars and brothels, but does Costner’s camera cross the threshold of a church? Nope. The movie has plenty of bullets, but does it have any Bibles? Nope. One of the main characters is a prostitute, but is there a priest among the cast? Nope.
In short, Costner’s Hollywood-ized, revisionist history of the American West eschews accurate portrayals of faith and family in favor of all manner of wanton acts committed by vain, profane and lecherous individuals. Even protagonist Hayes’ actions are far from heroic. It’s frightening to think that many impressionable young people who see this film will accept it an accurate account of the Old West.
The hymn “Amazing Grace” is sung (rather poorly) over the end credits. This seems like a makeup call for a movie that grossly underrepresents the beliefs of the era it seeks to depict.
In the end, Horizon is an exceedingly barbaric, yet terminally boring, tale that comes complete with cardboard characterizations, confusing crosscutting, unexplained time jumps and a jarring montage at the end of the film.
On the plus side, Costner’s historical epic is well-acted and beautifully filmed. However, it’s marred by shallow character development and a threadbare plot. So, what’s the end result of all these elements? Horizon is the greatest Western live-action cartoon ever made. Indeed, you’d be hard pressed to find a more pedestrian, less enjoyable Western than Costner’s clunker.
And the really bad news…with three more three-hour Costner pics in the works, there appears to be no relief on the horizon.
Rating: 2 out of 4
The Watchers (PG-13)
11/07/24 22:23
Starring: Dakota Fanning
June 2024
Warning! This is NOT a movie review. This is a critique of the film. Intended to initiate a dialogue, the following analysis explores various aspects of the film and may contain spoilers. For concerns over objectionable content, please first refer to one of the many parental movie guide websites. Ratings are based on a four star system. Happy reading!
Mina (Dakota Fanning) is a bored pet store employee who prefers vaping and doodling in her sketchbook to doing actual work. Her boss asks her to deliver a golden parakeet to a nearby town in Ireland. She reluctantly agrees, probably figuring a drive through the country would be preferable to staring at lizards and snakes all day. Most people would question their GPS when finding themselves on a single-track dirt road in the middle of a dense forest, but not Mina.
When her car dies, Mina strolls into the forest to find help, but immediately gets lost. As night approaches, she encounters Madeline (Olwen Fouéré), an old woman who tells her to get inside a concrete bunker before vicious creatures (Watchers) come out to hunt. Once safely inside the large rectangular room, Mina meets the other survivors, Ciara (Georgina Campbell) and Daniel (Oliver Finnegan). They mindlessly recite the rules as if in a trance: don’t open the door after dark, don’t turn your back on the mirror, don’t go near the burrows (giant holes in the ground), etc.
During the day, the four survivors go outside to hunt for small game, collect medicinal herbs and venture out as far as they dare in every direction to make a map of the region…but they must always return by sundown. One night, there’s a banging at the door. It’s Ciara’s husband John (Alistair Brammer), who’s been missing for several days. His urgent cries for help are soon drowned out by the shrieking howls of the rapidly approaching Watchers.
Should they risk letting him in?
This is just one of several really good suspense scenes in the lost-in-the-woods thriller The Watchers, which marks the directorial debut of Ishana Shyamalan, daughter of M. Night Shyamalan (The Sixth Sense). Ishana also wrote the script, which is based on the book of the same name by A.M. Shine.
The movie starts out well with an intriguing mystery, restrictive rules and compelling iconography (especially the “Point of no return” signs), all set in an immersive, eerie environment. Unfortunately, the story fails to capitalize on its strong premise by relying too heavily on horror movie gimmicks, which really aren’t that scary.
In addition to mimicking other horror films, The Watchers infuses a heavy quotation of The Time Machine (1960) into its narrative. In that film, based on H.G. Wells’ seminal sci-fi tale, the surface-dwelling Eloi must retreat indoors before dark or risk being eaten by the cave-dwelling Morlocks. In The Watchers, the titular creatures live deep underground and access the surface through large burrows in the ground. Similarly, in The Time Machine, characters access Morlock caves by entering cone-like openings on the surface and climbing down a long ladder. Not exactly the same, but close enough for the sake of comparison.
The whole bit with delivering the bird, the scenes where flocks of birds fly overhead, and the action beat where a bird dive-bombs one of Mina’s friends, are all reminiscent of the gags used in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. Also, there’s an allusion to the hatch in Lost, but I’m not going down that rabbit hole.
To its detriment, the movie is riddled with nitpicks and plot holes. Spoilers: for instance, what happens to all the cars left behind by those who get lost in the woods? Does the forest just swallow them up (that seems to be the case with Mina’s car)? Also, during their many months spent in confinement, no one thought to look under the rug; and it’s only when the Watchers are banging down the door that they discover the hatch? C’mon! And would you really trust a pet store parakeet to guide you through the woods to a lake? Grade A ridiculousness. And then there’s the most egregious plot blunder; Madeline should’ve insisted on being the one to collect the documents from the professor’s office since she previously had a relationship with him. Though Mina learning about the origins of the Watchers helps keep the audience up to speed, it reveals the truth the Watchers have kept secret for centuries. Shoddy plotting.
Another downside is that the third act keeps stringing us along but never delivers the “Aha!” moment we’ve been anticipating since the start of the film. Perhaps Ishana was leery of employing a climactic twist since that story device proved to be such a fickle feature of her father’s films. Probably a wise precaution since a poorly-executed surprise ending could’ve tanked an already middling movie.
On the plus side, Ishana makes the most of her locations; the film was shot entirely in Ireland. It isn’t much of a stretch to say the creepy forest serves as an additional character in the film. In a very real sense, the hair-raising atmosphere is more dynamic than many of the characters, which have all the charm of the terrified trees that shiver each time a Watcher crawls past them in the dead of night.
But enough about the movie’s production elements. Let’s take a look at the film’s socio-political aspects...
Before I saw The Watchers, I jotted down some general thoughts about the movie’s most striking image: four people trapped inside a glass-walled room surrounded by a foreboding forest at night.
Symbolically, the image may represent our…
- Fear of the surveillance state. Pervasive paranoia from always being watched. The government listening in on our phone conversations—the Patriot Act. TVs Person of Interest.
- Fear of the weaponization of governmental agencies. People jailed over the Jan. 6th riot, some of whom weren’t even in D.C. that day. The IRS targeting conservative groups (Lois Lerner). FBI labeling parents at school board meetings as “domestic terrorists” and targeting “radical-traditionalist Catholics.”
- Fear of the loss of personal privacy. Identity theft. Prevalence of social media…everything we post is searchable. We can be cancelled for what we say/believe. May make us feel like we’re living in a glass house…like animals in a zoo.
- Fear of another lockdown. People trapped inside their homes. Loss of the freedom to go about their normal daily lives. Physically shut off from other people.
Of all the potential plot points listed above, the movie only addresses the “animals in a zoo” element (one character thinks the whole thing is a test, that the Watchers are observing them to see “what can drive a person mad”). It’s a shame that the movie chooses hokey pseudo-mythology over cultural relevance; signs and symbols (the blatantly obvious analogy of the bird in the cage and the four people inside the bunker) over substance. Any meaning derived from the movie is done so by accident rather than by design (i.e., is Mina’s apartment number “2B”—as in “to be or not to be”—a knowing nod at her existential crisis, or am I way ahead of the director…or just plain off my rocker?).
The movie does pose an interesting, unspoken question though, “Who watches the Watchers?” The answer is: the audience. We’re watching the Watchers watch their captives. This fascinating meta perspective underscores the notion that all film spectatorship is voyeuristic by nature. Hitchcock explored this theme from various angles in such movies as Psycho, Vertigo and Rear Window. I suppose if Ishana had to borrow from someone it might as well have been from the master of suspense (sorry pops).
In another meta level subplot, Mina and the others watch old episodes of a reality series called Lair of Love (a made-up series in the mold of Big Brother) on DVD. Lair follows a dozen people around an isolated house and focuses on their frequent romantic escapades. Unlike the TV show, there are only four people shut into the bunker in the movie and, fortunately, none of them fall in love with each other.
Indeed, there’s very little love in The Watchers (and, sadly, very little to love). By contrast, there’s a palpable, almost oppressive, feeling of evil in the film. This feeling is accompanied by many depictions of evil, like the winged skeleton made out of bones and sticks that sits atop a warning sign and the drawings/paintings of shadowy or tall, pale creatures in books or wall paintings in a professor’s office. The physical manifestations of evil in the movie are the Watchers themselves, which come in different shapes, sizes and temperaments (indeed, the movie never properly classifies the mythical beings, referring to them as fairies, changelings, winged people, and halflings—send royalty checks to the Shire, Middle Earth).
Halflings are the result of a Watcher male mating with a human female. According to the movie, in the distant past Watchers and humans lived in harmony, some more so than others, it would seem. Though this story point sounds kind of out there, it does have literary precedent: gods (most notably Zeus) mated with human women in Greek mythology, and spiritual beings mated with human women in the Bible—producing giant humans known as the Nephilim. The movie eschews a thorough explanation of Watcher/human relations in favor of the supposedly shocking revelation that halflings are living among us. Big deal! The newer Battlestar Galactica did that with Cylons, to far better effect.
The Watchers squanders solid directing and decent acting with contrived and derivative story elements including a muddled faux-mythology. Other than a few meaningful character moments and a couple good scares, the story doesn’t really accomplish anything.
In the end, it’s unfortunate that Padawan Shyamalan spent too much time thinking about the Watchers on the screen and not enough time thinking about the watchers in the theater.
Rating: 2 out of 4
Unsung Hero (PG)
22/05/24 21:44
Starring: Daisy Betts
April 2024
Warning! This is NOT a movie review. This is a critique of the film. Intended to initiate a dialogue, the following analysis explores various aspects of the film and may contain spoilers. For concerns over objectionable content, please first refer to one of the many parental movie guide websites. Ratings are based on a four star system. Happy reading!
David Smallbone (Joel Smallbone), an Australian music promoter, has had some success in bringing contemporary Christian bands from America to the land Down Under in the late 80s. Despite sound advice to the contrary, David turns down a “lesser act,” DeGarmo & Key, and signs a major deal to bring over emerging superstar Amy Grant for an extensive concert tour.
Then the nation suffers an economic downturn, resulting in Grant performing for crowds of hundreds rather than thousands. Since David’s name appears on the contract, he ends up losing his job and foreclosing on his beautiful home.
In an act of desperation, David takes a job in America and moves his wife, Helen (Daisy Betts), and six kids (with one in the oven) to Nashville, TN. Showing up to work on the first day, David learns that his position was given to someone else. Since his work visa prohibits him from getting another job, David resorts to doing landscaping work for cash with his older kids just to afford their unfurnished house. When David solicits work at a nearby mansion, guess who opens the door? Yep, you guessed it…Eddie DeGarmo!
Right off the bat, the movie gives us a poignant lesson in the dangers of pride. David considered it beneath him to bring DeGarmo’s band over to his country. Now he’s in DeGarmo’s country scrubbing his toilet bowl. How the mighty have fallen.
Pride rears its ugly head when David is shamed by generous neighbors and fellow churchgoers. He pushes them away right when his family needs them most, when child #7 arrives. David’s inability to find a job and provide for his family sends him into a state of debilitating depression.
In yet another act of pride, David shuns the advice of his loving father, James (Terry O’Quinn). During a phone conversation, David hangs up on his dad; an act that comes back to haunt him just days later when James unexpectedly dies.
Of course, this film isn’t about debased David, his long-suffering wife or his ever-encouraging dad, it’s about the Smallbone children—three of whom would grow up to become Grammy Award-winning performers.
They say kids are resilient, and this movie certainly proves that aphorism true. Without beds, batteries for toy robots or even much to eat (Ramen again?), the kids found ways to stay busy helping the family and somehow managed to have fun despite their limited means and humble circumstances. This spotlights the movie’s main theme, which is that the most important things in life are faith and family—an ethic exemplified by the Smallbone clan.
The most famous Smallbone is the eldest daughter, Rebecca St. James (Kirrilee Berger). Her younger brothers, Joel and Luke, are members of the group For King & Country. In an ironic feat of casting, Joel (who also co-wrote and co-directed the film) plays his father, who was about his age during the early 90s, when the movie is set.
There are many highlights in the film, including the two-hanky Christmas scene when neighbors show up with everything on the Smallbone’s wish list; furniture, washer and dryer, Christmas tree and presents.
The movie’s culminating moment comes when seventeen-year-old Rebecca auditions for DeGarmo, with her younger brothers singing background vocals (the tryout comes complete with edited home video footage projected onto a large screen by another of the Smallbone boys). Rebecca’s original song, “You Make Everything Beautiful,” has a lilting quality and a catchy, hum-all-day melody.
So, who’s the titular agency? Is it the unidentified benefactor who pays the Smallbone’s hospital bill after the birth of their youngest child? Or is it some unseen guiding hand that, through all their hardships, has been leading the Smallbone family to exactly where they need to be? Depends on what, or who, you believe. But there’s no mystery as to what the Smallbone family believes.
Unsung Hero is an inspirational, follow-your-dreams biopic that reminds us of the power of courage, kindness and perseverance.
And to honor God, country, family and all the other heroes in our lives.
Rating: 2 ½ out of 4
One Life (PG)
03/04/24 22:21
Starring: Anthony Hopkins
March 2024
Warning! This is NOT a movie review. This is a critique of the film. Intended to initiate a dialogue, the following analysis explores various aspects of the film and may contain spoilers. For concerns over objectionable content, please first refer to one of the many parental movie guide websites. Ratings are based on a four star system. Happy reading!
One Life chronicles the extraordinary true story of Nicholas “Nicky” Winton (Johnny Flynn), a young stockbroker at a London bank, who rescued hundreds of children from the streets Prague on the eve of World War II.
From a young age, Nicky’s mother, Babette “Babi” Winton (Helena Bonham Carter), instilled in him a desire to help those in need. This “If you see a need, lend a hand” mentality compelled Nicky to help the refugees in Prague. All told, his efforts led to the rescue of 669 children who were transported on eight trains—a ninth train, with over 200 children aboard, never arrived because Hitler’s invasion of Poland ignited World War II. The children from the failed mission, many of whom ended up in concentration camps, weighed heavily on Nicky’s conscience for the rest of his life.
Nicky’s nagging melancholia over the people he wasn’t able to save mirrors the titular character’s plight in Schindler’s List (1993). In a haunting scene at the end of that film, Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson) laments the fact that he could’ve rescued more people; he calculates how many more lives could’ve been saved had he sold his watch and car. Despite the crushing weight of underachievement, both men secured a lasting legacy, namely the descendants of the people (largely Jewish) they saved.
Fifty years after the rescue effort, old Nicky (Anthony Hopkins) reflects on his earlier exploits, which are dramatized in a series of flashbacks. Nicky’s wife Grete (Lena Olin), tells him it’s time to let go of the past. While she’s away on a trip, Nicky drags dozens of file boxes from his study to the front yard, where he turns the mound of historical documents into a bonfire (an ironic twist on Nazi book burning).
The one item from the past Nicky just can’t bring himself to part with is a leather briefcase that contains a scrapbook of all the children he helped rescue. Nicky presents the scrapbook to a local London newspaper, but a decades-old account of Jewish children being rescued from another country fails to pique the editor’s interest.
When Nicky meets with a museum director, she says the scrapbook is too important for her collection, but asks if she can borrow it. That decision creates a chain of events that brings Nicky face-to-face with his legacy.
I must admit, I knew nothing about this film before I went to see it; Anthony Hopkins was on the poster and I’d gladly pay to hear him read binary code (formerly: from a telephone book) for two hours. A consummate craftsman, Hopkins is, in my estimation, the finest living actor on planet Earth. And, despite only appearing in about half the movie, the octogenarian delivers an authentic portrait of a man tormented by the lives he couldn’t save.
Bonham Carter is also impressive. Unfairly typecast for her off-kilter roles in many of Tim Burton’s films, Bonham Carter is a really good dramatic actress. Here, her “Not gonna’ take no for an answer” characterization is finely-calibrated—Babi’s assertiveness could’ve come off as bullying.
The rest of the cast, including Jonathan Pryce as Nicky’s long-time friend, Martin, and Romola Garai as the spirited leader of the refugee committee in Prague, is also excellent. Flynn has the movie’s most pivotal role as the younger version of Hopkins; fortunately, he’s up to the task and credibly, if not slavishly, mimics the speech and mannerisms of the veteran actor.
Despite a slow start, the story begins picking up steam when young Nicky visits Prague. The crosscutting between the movie’s two time periods helps sustain viewer interest; the mostly urgent, mission-driven scenes set in the late 30s serve as an appropriate counterbalance to the largely contemplative, character-driven scenes set in the late 80s.
Director James Hawes makes the most of his UK and Czech Republic locations, but never quite elevates the look of the film above its modest budget. Still, with a story (written by Lucinda Coxon and Nick Drake, based on the book If It’s Not Impossible…: The Life of Sir Nicholas Winton by Barbara Winton) this strong and performances this good, a bigger budget and more lavish production would’ve upstaged the film’s poignant message.
Though set decades in the past, the movie has more than just a little relevance to current events. With antisemitism on the rise and wars raging in Ukraine and Israel, this film is a timely reminder of the dangers of placating evil and vilifying any race or group of people.
One Life boasts tremendous performances and a riveting true story of courage in the face of unspeakable evil. It’s also a powerful reminder of how many people can be positively impacted by just one life.
Despite its disturbing themes and images, One Life is an inspirational movie that should be seen by everyone…lest we forget the horrors of war and repeat the mistakes of the past.
Rating: 3 out of 4
Dune: Part Two (PG-13)
03/04/24 22:13
Starring: Timothee Chalamet
March 2024
Warning! This is NOT a movie review. This is a critique of the film. Intended to initiate a dialogue, the following analysis explores various aspects of the film and may contain spoilers. For concerns over objectionable content, please first refer to one of the many parental movie guide websites. Ratings are based on a four star system. Happy reading!
Previously on Dune: Paul Atreides (Timothee Chalamet) and his mother Lady Jessica Atreides (Rebecca Ferguson) set out across the deserts of Arrakis with Stilgar (Javier Bardem), Chani (Zendaya) and a host of nomadic Fremen.
Dune: Part Two picks up where the first film left off, with Paul and Lady Jessica learning the ways of the Fremen culture. One by one, Paul fulfills each part of an ancient prophecy, and though he’s reticent to accept such a mantle, the Fremen people revere him as their messiah (“Lisan al Gaib”). Things are also looking up for Lady Jessica, who becomes the new Reverend Mother for the Bene Gesserit sisterhood.
Meanwhile, the nefarious members of House Harkonnen are scheming to control all spice (mélange) production on arid Arrakis. When Rabban (Dave Bautista) fails to rout the Fremen, who are blowing up Harkonnen harvesters and spice depots with terrorist-style sneak attacks, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgard) commissions his brash nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen (Austin Butler), to find and destroy the Fremen stronghold to get spice production back on schedule.
When Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV (Christopher Walken) and his daughter Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh) arrive at Arrakeen, the major city on Arrakis, the board is set for a catastrophic battle between the Emperor’s Sardaukar soldiers, the Harkonnen army and the Fremen freedom fighters (and let’s not forget the giant sandworms).
So, who wins the massive melee? Do Paul and Chani tie the knot? Does Paul get revenge for the murder of his father, Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac)?
Well, you don’t expect me to ruin everything do you? (Of course, if you’ve read Frank Herbert’s titular tome, you already know the answers to these questions.)
As you’ve probably guessed from the title, this is the second movie based on Herbert’s sci-fi masterwork, which was first published in 1965. With the smashing success of the first Dune (2021), this sequel was all but assured. But does Part Two live up to the previous film?
Some of my main criticisms of the first film were that it’s expansive sets and gigantic ships made the characters seem insignificant by comparison and that the many frenetic ground battles felt impersonal since we really knew nothing about the soldiers charging into the fray. In Part Two, director Denis Villeneuve corrects these complaints by utilizing more closeups of the characters (especially the comely Irulan/Pugh) and by thrusting characters we’ve come to know (Paul, Stilgar and Chani) into the cataclysmic conflagrations. Villeneuve flips the script in several other key ways in the sequel.
For instance, much of the first film took place in and around Arrakeen (indoors). In this movie, most of the action transpires in the planet’s deserts (outdoors). In a similar vein, the first Dune focused on the Atreides family, while Part Two centers on the Fremen people (and Paul and Lady Jessica’s rise among their ranks).
Another contrast is that the first film’s narrative was infused with Machiavellian machinations (a few instances remain here, like when Baron Harkonnen plots his nephew’s demise, or when Princess Irulan manipulates her father into saving Paul’s life), while this film is more concerned with the Fremen culture and how they seek to become “one with the desert.” In essence, the political intrigue of the first film yields to the religious fervor of the second film.
The new cast members shine, especially Pugh and Butler. Walken, however, seems weak and doesn’t have the bearing of a galactic ruler. Bautista, who reprises his role as the Harkonnen henchman, continues to be underserved. In a paper-thin characterization, Rabban does little more than bark orders (“Kill them all!” and “Strike!”) and take out his frustrations on unsuspecting servants (a la Vader). Disappointing.
For all its divergences with the first Dune, this film shares some similarities as well. The movie’s design elements (ships, costumes, weapons, etc.) are all finely-crafted. Also, as with the former film, Part Two boasts some gorgeous sets and captures some stunning desert vistas.
Since Dune won six Academy Awards (for Best Cinematography, Editing, Score, Visual Effects, Production Design and Sound), the sequel seems poised to match or supersede that statuette haul.
At nearly 3 hours in length, Dune: Part Two is a protracted yarn that skillfully builds to the climactic battle, but disappoints with an abrupt ending.
The sequel is more intimate, yet less epic than the first film. Ironic!
Though this movie wraps up Herbert’s first book, will this be the last Dune adventure to grace theaters? Not if Villeneuve has any say in the matter. He’s expressed interest in adapting Herbert’s Dune Messiah for the big screen.
So, is a trilogy in the offing?
Keep your ear to the sand.
Rating: 2 ½ out of 4