Title: The Colonial Hero’s Dilemma: An Analysis of “Dune” and Its Adaptation in Denis Villeneuve’s Films
The science fiction novels penned by Frank Herbert, specifically the “Dune” series, have long been debated for their relationship with colonial adventure literature. While these works exhibit elements of excitement and heroism, reminiscent of authors such as Edgar Rice Burroughs, James Fenimore Cooper, and H. Rider Haggard, Herbert wrote during a period when criticisms of colonialism were prevalent. His protagonist, Paul Atreides, grapples with his role as a Messianic leader and the director of colonial conquest, filled with doubts and uncertainty.
In Denis Villeneuve’s film adaptations, particularly “Dune: Part Two,” an attempt is made to build upon Herbert’s anti-colonial leanings through subtle and overt storytelling adjustments. Villeneuve pushes the boundaries of questioning the foundations of colonial narratives further than Herbert did. However, despite these efforts, the same challenges that hindered Herbert’s more liberatory intentions persist. It is challenging, if not impossible, to convey an anti-colonial narrative while centering the perspective, heroism, and awe of a colonial hero.
The first part of “Dune” (released in 2021) introduces us to Paul, the heir of House Atreides, in a future of space travel and intricate plots. Paul’s father, Leto Atreides, has been granted control over the desert planet Arrakis, which holds melange – a psychoactive spice that grants altered consciousness for interstellar travel. In essence, melange acts as a combination of LSD and petroleum. However, this gift is a trap, as the Emperor conspires with the former ruler of Arrakis, Baron Harkonnen, to attack and destroy House Atreides on the planet.
In “Dune: Part Two,” Paul comes into his destined role as a leader, and like many colonial heroes before him, such as Tarzan or Natty Bumppo, he quickly adapts to the Fremen culture better than they do. He is an exceptional fighter and possesses knowledge of the desert from prophetic dreams. When riding the gigantic (phallic) sandworms, Paul rides the largest one, absorbing the Fremen’s power for his own benefit and becoming even more powerful.
Herbert attempted to undermine or challenge these colonial tropes by having Paul feel deep guilt about his role as a colonizer, seeing the potential for genocidal conquest and cultural subversion. However, this internal struggle doesn’t make for an effective anti-colonial critique when Paul’s narrative is more powerful than the experiences of the colonized people.
Villeneuve recognized this issue and introduced Chani, a Fremen lover, with ambivalent feelings regarding Paul’s destiny as a conqueror. In the book, Chani supports Paul without reservations, but in the movie, she refuses to believe in his prophetic destiny, insisting that the messiah myth is a tool used by colonizers to keep colonized people waiting for freedom. She urges Paul to join her as an equal rather than ruling over the Fremen.
Giving one of the colonized a chance to express anti-colonial sentiments is significant, yet it doesn’t create an anti-colonial narrative. Paul’s story remains the focus of the film, and most viewers root for him to take revenge on the Harkonnens. Chani, in essence, challenges not only Paul but also the plot itself, and all its action-movie, revenge narrative pleasures.
The film’s failure to present an effective anti-colonial vision is especially disappointing given the current era of thought-provoking anti-colonial epics. Works such as N.K. Jemisin’s “Broken Earth” trilogy, Tasha Suri’s “The Books of Ambha” series, Benjanun Sriduangkaew’s “Her Pitiless Command” trilogy, and Tade Thompson’s “Wormwood” trilogy offer profound insights into colonialism. The key to their success lies in prioritizing the experiences of colonized people over those of kings, rulers, and colonizers.
If Villeneuve or Herbert had genuinely intended to challenge colonial power and privilege, the hero of the story would be a Fremen, like Chani. Instead, she would be fighting against Paul’s attempts to drag her into his dreams and prophecies.
Few blockbuster films prioritize the narratives of colonized people, as writer and professor Viet Thanh Nguyen notes in “Nothing Ever Dies: Vietnam and the Memory of War,” where he discusses the depiction of the Vietnam War in films. “Much of the American artistic and cultural work about the Vietnam War, even as it engages in anti-American criticism, places Americans firmly and crudely at the story’s center.”
Similarly, films like “Avatar” and “Star Wars,” while seemingly anti-colonial, keep the focus on colonizers. In the case of “Dune: Part Two,” it presents a freedom struggle on an exotic and distant planet but perpetuates the same old narrative of power.
