Reflections of Dune

The Baron dead in the desert, awaiting for it to consume his expired flesh, and amidst a steady barrage of clean cut, self important cinematic indulgence that has persisted non-stop for the better part of 150 minutes or so, Villeneuve finally allows himself a brief moment of playfulness that breaches this impregnable text that he is committing to screen far too faithfully.

In one of those shots that seem to transcend the film narrative the camera seems to go into a hyper illustrative visual intentionality. We travel in close up on the dead Baron’s head (the rest of the body buried under sand) which seems to be teeming with suspiciously Dali-esque ants, their geometric formation also echoing MC Escher.

At this point I can’t help but remember that Dali himself was set to play a role in Jodorowsky’s Dune. And while Dali’s ants make an appearance on a severed hand, most notably in his and Bunuel’s Un Chien Andalou, Villeneuve chooses to highlight the Baron’s ear being overtaken by ants.

Within the space of seconds the cinematic mind has been blasted into a visual history of the Dune cineverse and a plethora of pop art realms, and is now unmistakably thinking of Blue Velvet’s dismembered ear. David Lynch sheds a tear and blesses the remake of his famous flop that still has more gusto than Villeneuve’s inflexible masterpiece.