Revisiting Dune: Part Two, and Excalibur

A few weeks back I did another rewatch of Excalibur, the movie I compared Dune: Part Two with in an unofficial (read: not a review) take, and then yesterday I did a rewatch of Dune: Part Two itself.

Let's start with Excalibur.  I'm still not writing reviews of either.  They're complicated, in much the same way Peter Jackson's second and third Lord of the Rings films are for me, or 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Some critics would list, say, Heaven's Gate in this kind of category, a production they could only ever hate for the kind of arrogance artwork on display.

I've been trying to watch Excalibur more some twenty-five years.  I find it very easy to fall asleep watching anything (in fact I can't offer a review of Dune: Part Two since that's exactly what I did for a large chunk of it yesterday, missing among other scenes Austin Butler's gladiatorial debut, which was a highlight the first time around).  For me it's not an indictment, it's just a fact of life.  In past attempts I slept through much of Excalibur's excess, its inability to tell the difference between art and artifice.  This time I found myself suitably amused by Nicol Williamson's irreverent Merlin, likely a response to Empire Strikes Back's Yoda, while everyone else struts to the pomp, even wasting the young Liam Neeson, not to mention Patrick Stewart, allowing Nigel Terry to ineffectually carry the load as King Arthur (surely one of the worst casting jobs in the history of film).  Yet the grandeur is there.  It justifies the Lady of the Lake as the truly indelible visual of the film, the only element to truly rise to the occasion.

Dune: Part Two is almost a complete visual affair.  It struts its actors as they chew the scenery in amusing ways (although this is probably Javier Bardem's second best Hollywood role, the Alec Guinness who relishes the old believer role previously occupied by Laurence Fishburne, having the chance to nail the exact act in a second film entry as few enough viewers have credited Fishburne; Josh Brolin is the only other member of the ensemble allowed complete dignity, but then he's been a pro at that since before he was taken seriously).

But this is still Villeneuve, one of the best directors working today, and there are echoes of Arrival, here, which I imagine is what drew him to the project in the first place, that and the prospect of reviving another 1980s sci-fi relic looking for redemption, and he comes closer to the mark in making a statement this time than in the first act.  My disappointment is mostly that he dithers on a desert world rather than plunges into something more meaningful, but that's why I'll continue giving the results further chances, more than I ever will Peter Jackson, or Excalibur, why I'll more happily recommend Villeneuve's work to those looking for something meaningful in Hollywood's yearning for greatness in genre material than its nearest competitors.  

Anyway, it's a long game.   

A little about Dune: Part Two

I’m not calling this a review, since I don’t want to get a lot into the film itself, but this is more to say I can’t understand how everyone is so effusive about it. I’m going to call it the Excalibur effect. Excalibur was the 1981 grandiose take on King Arthur. Clearly a result of studios trying to figure out why Star Wars was such a hit, where a lot of other films chased, desperately and without any of the technical finesse or storytelling flare, what George Lucas did, in the genre he did it, Excalibur went in another direction, far into literary history, for another saga involving grand destinies, the sad stories of fathers and sons, and, well, swordplay. And it did it straight, no studio meddling to broaden the audience (which usually means adding in some comedic elements), full fantasy, and it’s been a cult classic ever since.

The Excalibur effect is perhaps better known, today, through Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, filled with the same purposeful earnestness (with some comedic elements), but otherwise embraced with extravagant praise, from the start, by critics and viewers, to a greater extent than Excalibur itself, thanks to its unusual, to this day, strategy of releasing three films in three years, and telling fans they were all shot simultaneously, the MCU before the MCU of getting ahead of the curve and getting to ride it the whole way.

I don’t think any of these movies, with the exception of Fellowship of the Ring, deserves the amount of praise they get. I find them to be highly indulgent, from the entirety Excalibur to how Gollum is depicted in the second and third Rings. When you go grand you have to earn it with truly great filmmaking.

Denis Villeneuve is a great filmmaker, but he’s driving himself to distraction with how long he stays on Arrakis. Here I’m specifically addressing the length of these films. If he were packing them with the kind of gripping drama or subtle intrigue of his best films, that would be one thing. But Dune: Part Two is packed mostly with dithering. Pretty dithering, but mostly an internal battle Paul Atreides fights over a destiny we’re supposed to question. It’s the whole point. But instead we’re led to hero-worship him, like everyone else. 

So it’s a movie no one else could have made. I get that. No one else has. But sometimes no one should. Maybe it’s because I’m impatient for Villeneuve to work on some of his own material. People say they love this now, but will they follow him the way they have Christopher Nolan? Nolan had his Batman films, but he always balanced them with other work. I get that Villeneuve was probably happy he got to make a second one at all, and he was rewarded for it. There’s more praise and attention this time than with the first one. 

I just wish he could have made his point better, I guess, and not worried so much that it looked good regardless. Sometimes that’s not actually the only thing you need to worry about. Some people just can’t tell the difference. It’s the Excalibur effect. But it’s the substance that really counts. Extremely competent filmmaking still needs excellent storytelling.