I’ve always regretted not being able to watch the Lord of the Rings in the cinema. I have since caught a rerun at the Prince Charles Cinema, but I can’t imagine it captured the excitement of the audience at the time of release nor the zeitgeist that it was a part of and went on to influence.

It may have been this regret that channelled an almost feverish desperation to watch another book-based epic – Dune, an adaptation of the celebrated sci-fi novel by Frank Herbert, but all the same, my expectations were sky-high. I was chewing up every bit of pre-release promotion from concept artwork to cast announcements, I have rarely been as excited for a film in my lifetime. Now, you might well say, rightfully, that expectations are the thief of joy, but I wasn’t ready to consider this. Nothing could stop this train. I even went so far as to seriously consider a day trip to anywhere in Europe simply because the film was released there a month before it did here in the UK. Thankfully, sanity (and my bank balance) prevailed and I found myself in a crowded IMAX

Cinema on the day of release on October 21st. That was a while ago, but I struggled for the longest time to find a way to translate my sheer awe into a long review. I’ll admit I’m not much closer to articulating my child-like glee or why at the end of the film I inexplicably found that my eyes had welled with tears, but here goes.

Dune, directed by Denis Villeneuve (Blade Runner 2049, Sicario, Prisoners, Arrival) marks the second adaptation of the seminal novel by Frank Herbert after the disastrous first adaptation by David Lynch in 1984. David Lynch’s film emphasizes the long-held belief that Frank Herbert’s novel is largely unfilmable and while Denis Villeneuve largely does not concern themselves with that fear, he has taken the right lessons from Lynch’s failure by giving the story time to breathe and splitting it into two films.

Dune follows Paul Atreides ( Timothee Chalamet) of the noble house Atreides in a journey to Arrakis where his father Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac£ has been summoned by the emperor to replace the Harkonens in controlling the planet, the only source of Melange, a spice essential for intergalactic travel, and a potent drug. Whoever controls the spice , controls the galaxy. Naturally, the Harkonens aren’t too pleased about relinquishing control and … Well I’ll say no more here. On his journey, Paul is guided by his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), the concubine of Duke Leto and a respected member of a clan called the Bene Gesserit. Paul also meets the Fremen, the native people of Arrakis, historically oppressed by the Harkonens and one of whom, Chani , Paul has seen before in mysterious visions.

Vileneuve, along with screenwriters John Spaihts and Eric Roth have taken their time in their adaptation, allowing the audience to bask in the world of this story. The world of Dune is beautifully realised. Largely set in the desert planet Arrakis, also known as Dune, the sheer scale in this vast epic invites a feeling I can only describe as majesty. Cinematographer Greig Fraser uses natural light mostly, and the result is incredibly effective. I could feel the sand enter my nose and the harsh warmth of the undying sun against my face. Frequently, I found myself reaching for my water bottle. Shot in largely practical sets and on location in Jordan, Dune challenges a modern audience member’s numbness to CGI spectacle. But of course, it doesn’t stop there. Villeneuve brings his A-game to his magnum opus, perfectly exhibiting his totally unique skill of juxtaposing and balancing the epic with the intimate. Paul’s internal struggles with his role in this saga are never sacrificed for the sake of bombastic action. Paul is perfectly characterised by Chalamet but the true star of the show is the woefully underrated Rebecca Ferguson as the Lady Jessica. Ferguson understands the importance of Lady Jessica in Pauls journey and it’s not a responsibility she takes lightly. The weight of a mother who feels responsible for the burden placed on her sun is painfully visible in every shot. The acting is subtle but nothing short of magnetic.

The highlight of the cinematic experience is boosted by a thumping score for Hans Zimmer. The music, that I initially dismissed as obnoxious sound design, pulses and pounds and feels entirely of the world that the film is set in. Even leitmotifs don’t take the same shape, instead morphing into sonic ideas personifying a certain character or a location. It’s an overdue reminder of the master that is Hans Zimmer. Bagpipes haven’t given me goosebumps this way since the stellar John Powell’s masterpiece Stoick’s Ship in How to Train Your Dragon 2.

Dune’s masterstroke of splitting the stories does occassionally do a disservice to this Part 1. The film just appears to end rather suddenly and instead of a satisfying third act, Dune Part 1 just has a very long second act. In another film though, this issue would have sunk it, but gratefully we have a master at work here.

I owe as much a debt to Dune as other contemporary tales like Star Wars and A Song of Ice and Fire. Dune provided a cinematic experience like nothing I’ve ever experienced (Dunkirk is a very close second). In a month where I watched more films than ever on my own, Dune aptly reminded me of the value of communal cinema. The companionship at Dune’s screening made the experience whole. We all seemed to share the experience, sweating in the heat together and dropping our jaws all together. I found myself punctuating every line of dialogue with a whispered explanation of what was going on. After two long years, I finally felt the all too unfamiliar feeling of childlike wonder and for that alone, I tip my hat to you Mr. Villeneuve. This is one for the ages.

Rating:

★ ★ ★ ★ ★