On the positive side, it’s better than the first one. Yet this bigger, starrier sequel, after an unexpectedly sprightly first act, eventually grinds down into a leaden, repetitive and po-faced political sermonising. The director and co-writer Denis Villeneuve has taken the worst and most preachy bits from Avatar, about how imperialism is fuelled by the exploitation of natural resources, and seemingly repackaged them with an orange Instagram filter and a couple of dozen heavy brass “braaaaam”s from Hans Zimmer’s overblown score.
And so, yes, here we are again, on the desert planet of Arrakis, where the invaluable natural McGuffin is “spice” and, as the opening title card reminds us, “Power over spice is power over all.” It’s a testament to the film’s extraordinary humourlessness that there’s not a single “spicy food” pun, even at the very moment when the hero Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) looks down into his bowl and announces, half-horrified, “There’s spice in the food!”
The start, nonetheless, is good fun. Paul has now become a version of Jake Sully in Avatar or John Dunbar in Dances with Wolves or any classic movie where the cool white guy becomes better than the indigenous people at doing “native stuff”. He’s so good, in fact, that he declares himself a moody demi-god called a “Lisan al Gaib”. That’s someone who has too many dream sequences, rides giant worms and has an even moodier girlfriend called Chani, who’s played by Zendaya in a playground perma-scowl.
The casting in this sequel essentially implodes. Chalamet, who recently lowered the bar with Wonka, slips right under it with horrible readings of such lines as “My allegiance is to you and to the Fremen!” I’ve championed Chalamet for years, and praised his nuanced turn as Prince Hal in The King at a time when others were taking critical potshots. But he is increasingly revealing his limits as a screen performer, and in this he is all surface and no soul, going between cringe-worthy bursts of Braveheart Mel Gibson cosplay and pure hardwood Hayden Christensen from the Star Wars prequels.
The Dune newcomer Austin Butler, meanwhile, delivers a wince-inducing turn as a hairless cannibal villain called Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. He boasts the voice of Grover the Muppet and the uncertainty of a character actor who isn’t quite sure whether they’re the wacky comedy support or the sombre central antagonist. It’s not entirely his fault. The Harkonnen are miserably uninteresting baddies, and little more than one-note monochrome Minions in black leather. Butler arrives just when things start to fall apart, when the larky Dances with Wolves bit ends, and Villeneuve segues, for the next hour at least, into a ponderous pseudo-narrative about empire building and atavistic holy wars.
Chunks of this are taken from Frank Herbert’s source novel. But other chunks aren’t, including a deeply dopey resurrection sequence, ripped from The Matrix or Sleeping Beauty. Léa Seydoux, Florence Pugh, Anya Taylor-Joy and Christopher Walken all feature in the latter stages, and all are mostly let down by a screenplay and a directorial style that prioritises spectacle over psychology.
It looks fabulous, of course. But it also looks, at times, like an empty Zack Snyder showreel, with desert capes fluttering in slow-mo and moody faces half-hidden by shadow. If you appreciate the paintings of Jack Vettriano and the music of Milli Vanilli, and you’re the kind of person who upgrades their iPhone just to get the latest colour, this is probably the film for you. But for everyone else, as the movie progresses, it becomes glaringly evident that there’s very little happening beneath the sparkly, spicy, desert sands … “Braaaaam!”
★★☆☆☆
12A, 167min
In cinemas from March 1
Advertisement
Two-for-one cinema tickets at Everyman
Make Wednesday your go-to cinema day. Each month Times+ members can bring a friend for free at Everyman on a Wednesday. The perfect cinema experience with plush sofas, a full bar and great food. Visit mytimesplus.co.uk to find out more.
Follow @timesculture to read the latest reviews
