Dune: Prophecy Makes Me Appreciate Denis Villeneuve Even More

Dune: Prophecy is one of the most talked-about series right now, sparking endless discussions on Peliplat since its debut. However, it leaves me with a deep sense of disappointment. It isn’t because the series itself was poorly made, but rather because it highlights how difficult it is to replicate Denis Villeneuve ’s unique brilliance. His Dune franchise elevated visual storytelling to a breathtaking level, while Dune: Prophecy struggles to mimic that essence.

From the very first episode, it’s clear the series tries hard to emulate Villeneuve’s aesthetics, yet the result feels like a surface-level imitation.

Failed Attempt at Replicating the Movie

The casting sticks closely to the movie’s, with actors chosen for their sculpture-like, almost otherworldly features, delivering lines laden with gravitas. The color palette remains minimalist, dominated by arid yellows and desolate grays. Even the spacecraft design maintains that balance between futuristic and primitive—a nod to the movie’s aesthetic. Side note: for a story set 10,000 years in the past, wouldn’t you expect at least some variation in technology or culture? In addition, the series’ framing and compositions often feel like direct tributes to Villeneuve’s works.

Take, for instance, an early scene where a dying elder (I’ve forgotten her name but she’s likely a former leader of the Bene Gesserit) envisions a massive sandworm devouring a fortress. The worm is even larger than the movie’s version. Its emergence is accompanied by sound effects and a score unmistakably inspired by Villeneuve’s iconic style. Patently, the director attempts to evoke that same impending doom—or more precisely, a sense that danger is arriving slowly but inexorably, and although one wouldn’t be immediately snuffed out by it, there is no chance for escape.

But this feeling quickly dissipates. The series may have captured the movie’s surface, but it misses its soul.

Dialogue and Exposition Ruin the Mystery

What ultimately destroys the atmosphere, in my view, is the incessant dialogue. Characters constantly explain backstories or narrate their emotions, draining the world of its enigmatic allure.

The use of the Voice (the Bene Gesserit’s ability) is a glaring example.

In Dune: Prophecy, the Voice is first demonstrated when Valya Harkonnen uses it on Dorotea. Moments before, Valya warns, “I beg of you, don’t do this,” but when Dorotea refuses to listen, Valya resorts to using the Voice as she hollers, “Stop!” Faced with Dorotea’s incredulity, Valya comments, “A new skill I’ve been honing.” While the Voice lethally incapacitates Dorotea, the build-up feels too simplistic and the repeated explanations strip away any mystique.

By contrast, the movie’s portrayal of the Voice was masterful in its restraint. A memorable scene in Dune: Part One showed Lady Jessica and Paul Atreides captured by enemies. Their predicament seemed hopeless, yet a tiny oversight by their captors allowed them to use the Voice and annihilate their enemies in a flash. Without excessive exposition, the scene showcased the Voice’s deadly power, leaving viewers awestruck.

Beyond diminishing the mystery, the overuse of dialogue also robs the series of suspense. It’s as though the director is afraid that viewers might be lost in the plot, yet there isn’t any substantive plot development. In the movie, there were no hand-holding explanations. Viewers pieced together the universe through subtle cues, like Paul’s expressions, the Fremen’s rituals, and the language of the camera. The series, however, feels like a lecture, spoon-feeding every detail and, in the process, draining the tension.

Overreliance on CGI

Another flaw lies in the series’ heavy reliance on CGI landscapes. While stunning in isolated stills, the lack of tactile detail across episodes undermines the believability of the desert environment. Villeneuve’s films avoided this pitfall. Besides the majestic scenes, he also incorporated many immersive close-ups.

The opening sequence of Dune: Part Two, for instance, showcased the Fremen lying in ambush on a desert battlefield. Rather than using expansive CGI backdrops, Villeneuve focused on the granular—sand particles shifting underfoot, the Fremen’s synchronized breathing, and the desert’s palpable vitality. Every grain of sand felt alive, something the series simply didn't replicate.

Why Villeneuve is Irreplaceable

This brings me to what makes Villeneuve truly exceptional: his ability to make every frame a narrative. His portrayal of colossal objects, for example, felt uniquely immersive. When a sandworm emerged in both Dune movies, Villeneuve delayed its reveal, and instead focused first on trembling grains of sand, a hauntingly deep score, and a slow zoom-out that contrasted the worm’s immensity with human fragility.

Similar scenes in Dune: Prophecy lack this visceral impact. They feel flat, even mechanical.

Villeneuve himself once said he wanted every frame of his films to resemble a painting. To achieve this, he worked alongside with production designers and cinematographers to craft lighting and shadows that revealed the desert’s layers and textures. This meticulous attention to detail, seen not only in Dune but also in films like Incendies and Blade Runner 2049, sets him apart. Villeneuve is truly very fond of filming deserts.

Final Thoughts

Watching Dune: Prophecy has only deepened my admiration for Villeneuve. His works are immersive not just because they’re visually stunning, but because every visual element conveys emotion and story. While Dune: Prophecy struggles to live up to his legacy, it inadvertently highlights why Villeneuve is one of the most distinctive voices in modern cinema.

It dawned on me that a true master isn’t defined by his ability to create a particular style but by his exacting attitude toward details. Villeneuve isn’t just a director; he’s a sculptor who painstakingly carves out worlds that feel whole, alive, and impossibly real.

Catch you later for more movie musings!