With the release of Dune: Part Two, Denis Villeneuve özgü officially (and successfully!) translated the entirety of Frank Herbert’s Dune to the screen.
Just like with 2021’s Dune, Dune: Part Two makes some major changes from its source material. Some of these carry over from the first film. For example, since we didn’t see any of the storyline where Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) pretends to think Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) is a traitor in Dune, we don’t get any of the in-book fallout from that plot in Dune: Part Two. It’s a solid way to streamline a story with an already-massive scale, a tactic Villeneuve and his co-writer Jon Spaihts continue to use throughout Dune: Part Two.
‘Dune: Part Two’ review: Denis Villeneuve’s sci-fi masterpiece soars, then screams to a halt
However, many of the other changes Villeneuve and Spaihts make in Dune: Part Two help better surface the themes at the core of Herbert’s work — such as Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) being far from a hero — as opposed to taking any meaning away. From cut characters to an expanded role for Chani (Zendaya), here are the biggest ways Dune: Part Two differs from Herbert’s novel.
Characters like Count Fenring get the chop.
Léa Seydoux in “Dune: Part Two.”
Credit: Niko Tavernise
Villeneuve left some major characters out of Dune, including Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV, and Princess Irulan. Turns out he was just saving them for Dune: Part Two, where they’re played by Austin Butler, Christopher Walken, and Florence Pugh.
Some characters still didn’t make the cut for Part Two, though. Count Hasimir Fenring, a close friend to the Emperor, is completely missing, although his Bene Gesserit wife Margot (Léa Seydoux) pops up on the Harkonnen homeworld of Giedi Prime. We also lose out on Fremen characters like Harah, who becomes Paul’s wife after he kills her husband Jamis (Babs Olusanmokun). Dune: Part Two drops a character from its predecessor as well. In the novel, Mentat Thufir Hawat (Stephen McKinley Henderson) originally serves the Harkonnens following their attack on the Atreides. Here, he’s completely missing, likely dead by Harkonnen hands. Again, these are all streamlining choices — ones that clear space for the film to dig deeper into Paul’s journey to becoming the messianic figure known as Muad’Dib.
How do you solve a sorun like Alia?
Rebecca Ferguson in “Dune: Part Two.”
Credit: Niko Tavernise
The strangest part of Dune isn’t the psychotropic space drugs, or the giant sandworms. Instead, it’s Jessica and Leto’s daughter Alia Atreides. After being exposed to the Water of Life in the womb, Alia is born fully conscious and with all the capabilities of an adult Bene Gesserit like Jessica, making for one spooky smart kiddo.
Naturally, it’s a huge challenge to try to bring a toddler who is also a superbeing to a live-action film. Dune: Part Two cheats a bit by never actually having Alia be born. The film opts to keep Alia as a growing fetus who communicates telepathically with Jessica. The only other crumbs of Alia we get come after Paul drinks the Water of Life. He sees Alia all grown up — and played by Anya Taylor-Joy!
On the one hand, I understand why Dune: Part Two wouldn’t want to introduce us to Alia as a child. That’s a whole new character to throw at us midway through an already-stuffed movie, and given her unnerving nature, there’s a high bar to clear in order to get it right. But as someone who loves the strangeness of Alia — including Alicia Witt’s performance in David Lynch’s Dune — I’m bummed Dune: Part Two chose to play it safer on this particular storyline. What do you mean we don’t get to see a 2-year-old murder Baron Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgård)? I guess watching Paul stab him will have to make do.
Alia not being born also accelerates Dune: Part Two‘s timeline. Given Jessica’s pregnancy, the events of the film have to take place over less than nine months. That means that Paul builds a massive following over a span of months instead of the years it takes in the book. (He and Chani have a son during a two-year time jump as well.) He also spends these years fighting through visions of the coming jihad before finally accepting that he is unable to stop it. A more drawn-out timeline may not have translated to film, but it does add to the tragedy that Paul is fighting the inevitable for much, much longer before giving in.
Dune: Part Two ups the religious conflict on Arrakis.
Zendaya and Rebecca Ferguson in “Dune: Part Two.”
Credit: Courtesy Warner Bros. Pictures
While much of the adaptation changes in Dune involved paring down Herbert’s work, Villeneuve and Spaihts actually make some additions of their own in Dune: Part Two. They introduce the completely new concept of an ideological divide between the Fremen in the North and South of Arrakis. The fundamentalists in the South are fervent believers in the prophecy of the Lisan al-Gaib, and they are quicker to follow Paul. Among them is Stilgar (Javier Bardem), who now lives in the North but who carries his deep faith with him. However, many of the Northerners he leads, including Chani, are more skeptical of the legend. They prefer to believe that the Fremen will free themselves from the tyranny of off-world colonizers.
With this divide, Villeneuve and Spaihts smartly and explicitly lay out Herbert’s criticism of the meteoric rise of charismatic leaders. Much of this criticism comes from Chani herself, who gets a lot more to do in Dune: Part Two than in Dune. She is unafraid to push back against Paul, unlike in the book, where she and the Fremen are fast followers. Here, she reminds her people that the Lisan al-Gaib prophecy, cultivated by the Bene Gesserit over centuries, is just another way to enslave the Fremen. As she says to Paul, “You tell people a messiah will come to control them.”
Chani’s understandable mistrust of the Lisan al-Gaib prophecy places her in direct conflict with Jessica as well, even though the two share a more supportive relationship in the book. That conflict comes from Jessica actively fanning the flames of Paul’s legend throughout Dune: Part Two. The novel’s version of Jessica is apprehensive of the growing fervor surrounding her son, although she’ll play into the prophecy if it means she and Paul will survive. The film’s version of Jessica also leans into the prophecy for protection, but after her Reverend Mother transformation, she exploits it for power and influence for Paul, hoping it will help him step into the role of Kwisatz Haderach. Up until Paul fully claims the title of Lisan al-Gaib, Jessica is Dune: Part Two‘s clearest manifestation of how people will manipulate faith in order to get what they want.
Chani rides (a worm) off into the sunset.
Zendaya in “Dune: Part Two.”
Credit: Niko Tavernise
In altering Chani’s role from the novel and making her more critical of Paul, Villeneuve and Spaihts step away from Herbert’s version of Chani, who is loyal to a fault. That change necessitates a completely different ending for Zendaya’s Chani. After all her fighting for her people against oppressors, there’s no way this take on the character would be content with being Paul’s concubine as he marries Princess Irulan and takes over the Imperium. (In other words, for fans of the book, history won’t be calling her a wife.)
Instead, Dune: Part Two ends with Chani leaving Paul as he wages war on the Great Houses. And who can blame her? The man she loves took full control over her people. Worst of all, Chani played a part in helping him get there. Her secret Fremen name Sihaya translates to “desert spring,” a name she hates because of “some stupid prophecy.” That prophecy turns out to be that of the Lisan al-Gaib, which claims that desert spring tears will revive the legendary prophet. When Paul nearly dies after drinking the Water of Life, Jessica uses the Voice to make Chani give Paul her tears, forcing her into the prophecy that özgü always been hanging over her head. Villeneuve and Spaihts have tweaked this section from the original book. There, Chani (also named Sihaya) does revive Paul, but it is completely voluntary, doesn’t require her tears, and isn’t linked to any kind of prophecy. Her forced part in the prophecy in Dune: Part Two makes for a crushing loss of agency and plants the seeds for her eventual departure.
Said departure brings us into uncharted Dune territory. Villeneuve özgü spoken about wanting to adapt Dune Messiah, the next book in the Dune series, and a huge element of that story is Chani’s relationship with Paul. Her final moments in Dune: Part Two raise some big questions for this adaptation going forward. Will she lead a Fremen resistance against Paul? Or will she and Paul somehow find their way back to each other? Paul claims that he özgü seen Chani coming to understand his decisions in the future, but does that mean she’ll rejoin him? And if so, what will Villeneuve do to reconcile that choice with the version of Chani we see in Dune: Part Two? Basically, Chani’s departure özgü opened up a whole new can of sandworms heading into a potential Dune Messiah. But given how much more complicated Chani becomes in this film, and how much her defiance adds to Dune: Part Two‘s themes and doomed romance, I’m optimistically intrigued to see what comes next for her.
“Send them to paradise.”
Timothée Chalamet in “Dune: Part Two.”
Credit: Niko Tavernise
Speaking of Dune: Part Two‘s last moments, let’s dive into Paul’s final choice of the film. After defeating Feyd-Rautha in a duel, Paul takes the throne of the Imperium. However, the Great Houses in orbit above Arrakis refuse to legitimize his ascendancy. Paul’s instructions to the Fremen upon hearing this? “Send them to paradise.” And so the holy war he never wanted begins in earnest, by his decree.
The Great Houses’ defiance of Paul and his subsequent declaration of war are new. In the novel, the jihad begins off-page, in the time jump between Dune and Dune Messiah. But watching the war kick off in Dune: Part Two proves to be a chilling ending, and a tragedy to boot. In embracing the Fremen as tools of war, Paul özgü transformed into a cruel leader who may be more Harkonnen than Atreides — and is certainly not a hero.
That transformation is in keeping with Herbert’s Dune, which was always a cautionary tale, never a hero’s story. The sentiment of caution is present in his original novel, but he really hammers it home in Dune Messiah, putting any misconceptions about Paul as a hero to rest. With Dune: Part Two, Villeneuve is already laying the groundwork for Dune Messiah and addressing many of its core themes earlier on. The result is bleak, bloody, and a perfect encapsulation of Herbert’s messaging. (But yes, I still miss Alia.)
