The new adaptation of Dune accomplishes something rare and powerful in science fiction: it makes the future feel alien.
Dune is set impossibly far from the present. Dune scholars have determined that the in-universe calendar (which says that the movie takes place in the year 10,191 by its own reckoning) puts the events of the plot more than 23,000 years from our present day. As a result, things look and feel basically unrecognizable. Sure, there are human beings, but their customs and mannerisms are entirely (or nearly entirely) different from 21st-century life.
But just as critically, there are some elements of familiarity, though they’re presented in ways that emphasize how little they have in common with our present world.
Two important factions exemplify this characterization: the Bene Gesserit and the Sardaukar.
The Bene Gesserit equate pretty roughly to the Dune universe’s Jedi, but all are female. Working with but not for the ruling emperor, the Bene Gesserit are slowly implementing their own plans, attempting to create a “supermind” that will upend the known universe.
I love how they’re portrayed in the movie. Black-clad, their costuming evokes elements of Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and Jewish symbology, giving an air of religious authority to their proclamations. And they are a distinctly religious group: they are led by the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam who speaks of prophecies and foretellings and destiny in her brief screen time, pushing the protagonist, Paul Atreides, toward his ultimate goal — though he hardly knows himself what that goal is.
I think it’s the familiarity of the religious aspects that help the Bene Gesserit feel so alien. Most people have some experience with religion, but nobody (or almost no one) has had a religious experience involving a prophesying witch appearing on a spaceship.
The Sardaukar, meanwhile, present an interesting version of the “unstoppable army” trope. We meet them first on the military planet of Salusa Secundus, where thousands are completing a religious-seeming ritual prior to departing for some military target. Once again, this is something we’ve seen before: an army preparing for battle through ritual action is a common enough trope, and enough people have had real-life military experience (or seen a military force in action to recognize the visual language.
But nobody has experienced an army of space marines gearing up for battle by having their foreheads blessed with blood while hearing throat singing.
This all is as it should be. The future is an inaccessible place. A time traveler from 1,000 years past would find our world nearly if not completely incomprehensible, much less one from 10,000 years ago. The same should be true for us in a movie that takes us 10,000 years or more into the future.
And yet, things should still have some familiarity. What is our present moment if not a compilation — amalgamation? — of many pasts. Dune walks the line well between feeling familiar and alien, and the movie succeeds because of it.