The distant future is nasty, brutish and so much sand in your picnic
Pre-modern social structures, absolute monarchies, divine right, brutal imperial regimes, feudal and slave economies, war and more war (with swords). What is it about the space-opera form, the grandest, galaxy-spanning form of sci-fi, that requires these antique social patterns? Superstition, secret societies, monastic discipline, religious sects that can see the future, the past and also deep into your soul.
Part one, 2021
It’s 155 minutes long. Hardly anything happens (I could give you the plot in about four lines). The big stars say hardly anything. Everyone whispers against thunderous sound design that makes knowing what’s going on quite hard. In fact if there was anything going on it would be impossible. Luckily there’s hardly anything going on. And this almost empty plot is the film’s primary merit. We drift through it untroubled by events. It’s a mood piece (I’ve since learnt that all the action is in the sequel).
There are sci-fi epics that don’t have the dynasties and warrior races and priesthoods and exotic, masked tribes — Kim Stanley-Robinson’s (slightly worthy) future bureaucracies and floating anarcho-ecological cities; Liu Cixin’s hyper-pragmatic inter-stellar states — but Dune is definitely in the…
