When a Dune spin-off series was first announced, I was interested to see how the science fiction world could expand beyond Frank Herbert’s first novel that Denis Villeneuve so brilliantly adapted into a two-part film. The intricate universe holds untapped potential for long-form television, which would be the perfect medium for telling complex stories that can’t fit into a two- or three-hour runtime. Though if executed poorly, long-form television can drag on. Dune: Prophecy falls into this trap and, for this reason, was a major disappointment.
Set 10,000 years before the birth of Paul Atreides, the prequel series shows the rise of the all-female Bene Gesserit cult that works in the shadows to shape the future of the Imperium. Two Harkonnen sisters, Valya (Emily Watson) and Tula (Olivia Williams), must navigate political machinations and combat an enemy they don’t fully understand: an enigmatic soldier named Desmond Hart (Travis Fimmel). Desmond’s goal is simple: He seeks to supplant the Bene Gesserit’s influence over Emperor Javicco Corrino (Mark Strong) and eliminate the sisterhood.
For a series centered around women, the most compelling character is, ironically, the male antagonist. Since we know the Bene Gesserit survive the existential threat Desmond poses, there are no stakes in whether its acolytes live or die. On the other hand, the mystery surrounding Desmond and his powers is the story’s primary driver. In fact, his mysterious nature is the only aspect of the show I quite enjoyed (due in large part to the actor’s charismatic performance).
Desmond is almost a prophetic figure with his commanding presence and foreboding language, delivering messages of judgment from a master on high. At the end of the first episode, Desmond speaks of “a war hidden in plain sight, waged by an enemy that has made themselves indispensable, that has come here to do our thinking for us.” Here, he equates the Bene Gesserit to the thinking machines that once controlled humanity. (In Dune lore, artificial intelligence was wiped out by humans during the Butlerian Jihad and has been taboo ever since.) “That is why it is so troubling that we are being controlled again,” he says of the Bene Gesserit’s influence over the Imperium. Desmond tells this to a young boy, leading him along until the soldier telepathically burns his victim as a necessary sacrifice to win this hidden war.
Clearly, Desmond is no saint. But at least he has an intriguing motivation. Valya and Tula merely want to survive, and their stories get more and more diluted as the series tries to give equal screen time to numerous other characters in the ensemble cast. The lack of meaningful development in the protagonists demonstrates how this show was ill-conceived from the beginning, not to mention how it was mired in production chaos for four years before it ever saw the light of day.
Perhaps the show’s biggest flaw was that it drew inspiration from Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson’s novel Sisterhood of Dune, one of the writing pair’s 17 books that are not officially considered canon by die-hard fans. Instead of dealing with the philosophical and religious complexities that Frank Herbert explored in his six novels, Dune: Prophecy more closely resembles a shallow soap opera with its CW-level romance. Let’s hope the second season is better, but I won’t hold my breath.
My worry is that HBO and Warner Bros. will turn Dune into another cash-grab franchise like Star Wars or the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It doesn’t need to be. What made Dune: Part One and Part Two special was that they transported audiences to a sci-fi world with rich storytelling and crisp cinematography. Give me awe, give me wonder. Don’t give me the origin of the Voice and the Litany Against Fear, like this series does. Dune is not merely content to consume but art to experience.
Dune: Prophecy flounders aimlessly, unlike Villeneuve’s cinematic adaptation, which was undoubtedly masterly. It’s a shame the first Dune spin-off series doesn’t reach the same height.