Once again, the biblical solemnity of Villeneuve's approach - along with the tactile brutalism of his design - have combined into a Timothée Chalamet movie that shimmers with the patina of an epic myth. And once again, the awesome spectacle that Villeneuve mines from all that scenery is betrayed by the smallness of the human drama he stages against it, with the majesty of the movie's first hour desiccating into the stuff of pure tedium as Paul Atreides struggles to find his voice amid the visions that compel him forward. It's a struggle that "Dune: Part Two" continues to embody all too well.
This isn't quite the same common - and admittedly boring - criticism that's been leveled against massive studio movies since the industry first started making them. This isn't a case of sound and fury signifying nothing, or one of special effects signifying even less. The artistry of this film's craftsmanship and the sincerity of its application would in and of themselves make it disingenuous to compare "Dune: Part Two" to the likes of, say, "Jurassic World" and Disney's "live-action" remake of "The Lion King."
But there's a more important distinction at play: Where those creatively bankrupt examples - motivated by desperate market forces - suffered from the mistaken belief that the future is a foregone conclusion no matter how awful it looks, "Dune" is an auteur-driven story about a reluctant messiah who's tortured by his role in a terrible prophecy that only he has the power to stop. And yet, we're never given any reason to think that Paul might actually do it, or even to care if he can.