Posted on 02 February 2012 by DttM
In this episode: Titus, Jared, and John discuss their Top 10 lists of 2011 and debate about what they think are the worthy, and unworthy, picks.
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Posted on 12 July 2011 by Titus Richard
Posted on 16 March 2011 by Titus Richard
Recap of Day 4 at SXSW 2011.
Recap of Day 5 and wrap-up of SXSW 2011.
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Posted on 15 March 2011 by Titus Richard
Recap of Day 3 at SXSW 2011.
Posted on 07 January 2011 by John Chapman
by contributing writer Howard Anderton
Dune.
Man, Dune.
That movie sucks.
David Lynch.
Man, David Lynch…
Unquestionably, he’s one of the most gifted filmmakers who ever lived: David Lynch, a bona fide weirdo, and the grand transgressor of American cinema. His best scenes live on in your mind just like those dreams you’ll never forget: the nightmarish arrival of Robert Blake in Lost Highway, the circus-freak march of The Elephant Man, Dennis Hopper’s oxygen mask in Blue Velvet.
Some of Lynch’s work I embrace and love: The Straight Story is amazing. But most of his work I either don’t touch with a ten foot pole or don’t have the stomach to finish. Admittedly, the only films in the first paragraph I didn’t shut off were The Elephant Man and Blue Velvet. I loved The Elephant Man. I wish I could unsee Blue Velvet.
As alienating as his films are to me, he is a erudite man and a gifted communicator.
The man knows film, and he knows how to communicate his love for film. Heck, even our tastes are similar—he loves Hitchcock even more than I do. I have an intense amount of respect and admiration for Lynch, and for his command of the medium.
And then we have Dune. I was six years old when I first saw this film, and it stuck in my head: The bad guys’ six-inch-long eyebrows… The super-evolved, space-folding psychic monster men… knife-fights with bizarre yellow energy shields… Sting… Even as a kid, I wanted to like the film—giant worms and spaceships, come on!—but it didn’t make a lick of sense.
Thank God for Netflix streaming. In a moment of idle curiosity, I found Dune again. I’ve been on a pre-90s sci-fi kick lately (old school Doctor Who! Yes!!), so I clicked on it…
…and oh my goodness, I feel like throwing up.
The film opens with a shot of Virginia Madsen staring at the screen, fading in and out, setting up the world of Dune for us by talking directly to the camera. It is the year 10,000-something. Something about “the spice must flow.” A bunch of weird names like Atrides and Arrakis. I’m sort of captivated—kudos to Madsen and Lynch for creating a dreamlike erotic atmosphere… but I can’t understand a word she’s saying. Is that English?
Check the opening out. I can’t embed it from youtube, but you can watch it here.
Fade down Virginia Madsen. Fade up opening credits.
And then comes one bizarre, incredibly over-plotted, incomprehensibly weird scene after another.
The casting’s insane: Kyle Maclachlan, Patrick Stewart, Linda Hunt, Francesca Annis, Dean Stockwell, Sting, Jurgen Pronchow, Brad Dourif, Max von Snydow, Richard Jordan, Fernando Rey, Sean Young. All somehow leave a distinct impression on the viewer, delivering full-bodied characterizations in the midst of a very messy film.
The villains of Dune are classic David Lynch. Brad Dourif, whose ridiculous pyscho-religious dialogue and bizarre gestures and body language set the viewer on edge. Kenneth McMillan as a flying, psychopathic fat man. A bunch of attendants with their eyes and ears sewn shut. A psychotic doctor who whispers sweet nothings into Kenneth McMillan’s ears while sucking puss out of his face. A bald witch lady. Michael Bolton.* Sting.
About halfway through the movie—long after I gave up trying to make sense of it–Kyle Maclachlan and his mother get stranded in the desert. They’re taken in by some sort of native terrorist tribe run by Everett McGill, who has the coolest voice this side of James Earl Jones. From this point on, the movie threatens us with comprehensibility… there’s a neat sequence where Maclachlan uses some sort of psychic shouting thing to blow up rocks. The giant worms show up. The editing becomes smooth (it’s a complete hack job up until this point), and the film’s atmosphere becomes stronger. In another sequence, Kyle Maclachlan drinks a potion and goes on an acid trip. When he wakes up, the giant worms are sitting at his feet like puppy dogs, and he’s become, apparently, some sort of Future Space Jesus Christ.
At this point, I have the impression that Lynch may have had a good film here somewhere during the editing process.
I also have a headache. I pop a Tylenol and continue.
Finally, there’s a climactic battle in which the heroes attack a future space dessert city while riding giant worms. It should be noted that the special effects here aren’t the greatest, and the battle looks like… well, it’s a bunch of penis-shaped worm puppets attacking a miniature city.
The good guys win. Virginia Madsen shows up for the first time since the opening, speaking one line (why was she in this movie again)? Kyle Maclachlan fights Sting and stabs him to death. Then Kyle Maclachlan, summoning his Future Space Jesus Christ powers, makes it rain. Cue closing credits.
All in all… what the heck just happened?
That said, I think there was a good film in there. It should have been an hour longer, allowing Lynch to flesh out the story and give us something more comprehensible. The novel Dune is based on is thick—like 544 pages. It is regarded as the Lord of the Rings of science fiction—i.e. it is a unique, intricate, and complete world, filled with maps and glossaries and mishmash. Imagine if the first Lord of the Rings film had been cut down to two hours. We all would’ve hated it.
According to my research,** Lynch turned in a four hour cut, and it was chopped down by the producers for release—Lynch was contractually obliged to turn in a two hour film. An obvious mistake on the producers’ part.
Ridley Scott was developing Dune to direct before Lynch, and had suggested splitting the first book’s story into two films. This was probably the wisest choice. The Sci-fi Channel’s miniseries adaptation of the novel spanned six hours, and apparently made a lot more sense. There’s just too much information in the novel to adapt into a sensical two hour film.
Lynch’s film has its good points, buried in an obsence mess of uniformly awful editing. The score by Toto is sublime. The cinematography by Freddie Francis is atmospheric and heady. The performances, as I noted earlier, are full-bodied, weird, and attention-grabbing. And it has the touch of an auteur, which can make a terrible film like Dune more entertaining to me than vacuous fluff like Night at The Museum.
That said, it still made me wanna throw up. Netflix it at your own risk.
· Bolton can be spotted in a single shot at the end of the film. He plays a drummer during a climactic knife fight between Sting and Kyle Maclachlan.
** By research, of course, I mean Wikipedia.
death2themovies Wenders, Herzog, and Scorsese have all made 3D movies now. Never thought I'd see the day.death2themovies RIP Ben Gazzara. Damn shame.death2themovies 2/3/12 @netflix pick: CITIZEN RUTH. One of the first films from Alexander Payne. Like most of his work it's clever and funny. #netflix365
