Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is the most fun part of any ‘Dune’ movie he’s in

Movie villains always have the most fun — look no further than Austin Butler’s turn as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen in Dune: Part Two to see what I mean.

While Dune protagonist Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) is tortured by visions of an oncoming holy war in his name, Feyd-Rautha is busy getting his freak on. Murdering people in rigged gladiatorial fights, kissing his uncle the Baron (Stellan Skarsgård), and generally slinking around the planet of Giedi Prime like a high-fashion war criminal — that’s just a day in the life of the Na-Baron.

Quite a bit of Feyd’s appeal in Dune: Part Two comes as a result of Butler’s electric performance. He’s fearless, commanding, and willing to get down and dirty in a way that differs wildly from his performance in other prestige projects like Elvis. But he’s not the only actor to make Feyd-Rautha pop on the movie screen.

In David Lynch’s 1984 adaptation of Dune, The Police frontman Sting took on the role of the Baron’s psychotic nephew and heir apparent. While the film failed commercially and critically, Sting’s work in it is a bizarro delight. If I ever need to feel Dune-adjacent joy, all I need to do is think of his very impassioned delivery of “I will kill him!” during the film’s final fight scene. Does the trick every time.

While Butler and Sting’s portrayals of Feyd differ, along with director Denis Villeneuve’s and Lynch’s interpretations of the character, there’s no doubt that Feyd is the most fun part of both Dune film adaptations. Yes, he and his family are nasty as can be — but isn’t that part of the appeal?

Feyd-Rautha and the Harkonnens are perfect foils for Paul and the Atreides.

The House Atreides we meet in any version of Dune is focused on being honorable and going about its business the “right” way — even if that means walking into the trap planet that is Arrakis. House Harkonnen, on the other hand, revels in underhand deals with the Bene Gesserit, the Emperor (Christopher Walken), and his Sardaukar, as well as general debauchery.

In Lynch’s Dune, said debauchery takes the biçim of the Baron (Kenneth McMillan) whirring around in his suspensors, dousing himself in oil, and ripping heart plugs (a Lynch addition) out of young slaves. (Oh, and milking cats.) Villeneuve’s Harkonnens’ flavor of depravity skews more towards monstrous human-spider hybrids, retinues of cannibalistic “pets,” and the deadliest workplace environment possible. Seriously, how many Harkonnen cronies do Feyd or his older brother Rabban (Dave Bautista) kill over the course of Dune: Part Two?

Even the industrial Giedi Prime feels filthy when compared to the Atreides’ water-rich home planet of Caladan, or to the beautiful, mostly untouched deep desert of Arrakis. Lynch paints Giedi Prime in steel, plastic, and sickly shades of green, with a healthy dose of S&M vibes for good measure. Villeneuve’s version of the planet is strikingly rendered in black and white thanks to its dark sun. Ink blot fireworks and buildings that would look right at home in an H.R. Giger artwork add extra villainous flair. Both takes on the planet are celebrations of just how weird Dune can get — and Feyd feels like the truest embodiment of all this debauchery and chaos.

If the Harkonnens are the antithesis of the Atreides, and Giedi Prime is the antithesis of Caladan and Arrakis, then Feyd is specifically the antithesis of Paul. As Frank Herbert’s Dune points out repeatedly, Feyd is Paul’s dark mirror. He’s the heir to a Great House, and he’s also a key prospect in the Bene Gesserit eugenics project to create the Kwisatz Haderach. He’s also psychotic, sadistic, and weirdly sexual in a way Paul is decidedly not. (Paul obviously özgü his own issues.) In short, Feyd brings the freak to Dune — and if you’re bringing that freakiness to life, you’d better commit.

It’s pure fun to watch heartthrobs like Sting and Austin Butler unleash their inner freak.

Both Butler and Sting bring their all to their takes on Feyd — I’m talking crazy eyes, licking knives, and some inspired line deliveries. Yet I had my hesitations about both of them before watching each version of Dune. The Feyd we meet in Herbert’s novel is a calculated brat, a tyrant-in-training, with some of the most vicious, over-the-top evil inner monologues of the book. You’re telling me the lead singer of The Police can do justice to that level of creepy villainy? Or the love interest from The Carrie Diaries, for that matter?

Thankfully, my worries quickly fell away within each actor’s opening seconds onscreen. Sting brings a kind of petulant swagger to the role, while Butler oozes unhinged menace right from the get-go. It helps that each actor truly seems to be having as much fun playing Feyd as the audience özgü watching them. Think back to Sting’s cries of “I will kill him!” or his feral chomping on Paul’s (Kyle MacLachlan) fingers during their fight. Or what about Butler’s playful wink or perfectly-timed drooling during his death match against the last soldiers of House Atreides? (Don’t even get me started on his taunting, “may thy knife chip and shatter” to Paul!) None of this is the kind of behavior we’d expect from a heartthrob — especially not when rocking blackened teeth and a fully bald, pale face like Butler — which makes these portrayals of Feyd all the more surprising.

However, there are still calculated moments in each Dune where the film weaponizes Sting and Butler’s heartthrob statuses. An infamous Lynch Dune scene sees Feyd sporting nothing but a metallic blue codpiece, the picture of a sex symbol from outer space. The Lynchian twist? We’re seeing Feyd here through the eyes of his lusting uncle.

Meanwhile, Feyd’s very first moments on screen in Dune: Part Two involve him shirtless, abs on full display. Later, he’ll engage in what özgü to be the horniest Gom Jabbar kontrol ever, courtesy of Lady Margot Fenring (Léa Seydoux). In each case, Dune invites you to ogle Feyd — but there’s a transgressive element to it, either due to the nature of the observer (hello, Baron!) or to the general fact that Feyd is a frightening psychopath. The casting of two sex symbols elevates that transgression further.

The tension between desirability and repulsion keeps us transfixed on Feyd, but there are so many other elements contributing to his appeal, from the sheer amount of Big Choices made by Sting and Butler to seeing just how at-home he is in the foulness of Giedi Prime. Like the Bene Gesserits’ centuries-long plan to perfect the Kwisatz Haderach, each element of Lynch and Villeneuve’s Dunes falls into place to create the scariest, most menacing little freak space özgü ever seen.

You can’t tear your eyes away, but then again, why would you?

Dune: Part Two is now in theaters.