'Dune: Part Two' Sustains the Dystopian Dream of 'Part One'

Three firm thumps into the Arrakis sand is all you need to summon a sandworm in Denis Villeneuve’s “Dune: Part Two.” It’s almost as easy as hailing a cab or calling for the check.

The big buggers can’t resist the sound, which is a little like how I feel taking in all the vibrations of Villeneuve’s adaptation of Frank Herbert’s 1965 science-fiction novel. Whispers, incantations and guttural sounds buzz throughout “Part Two,” a hissing hulk of a sequel that fluctuates between ominous silences and thunderous booms.

The first “Dune,” released in 2021 when movie theaters were still humbled by the pandemic, tackled just the first half of Herbert’s opus, saving the second half for the sequel. That split can be owed in part to the enormous amount of plot contained in the novel, but it can also be attributed to the operatic rhythms of Villeneuve’s solemn spectacle. Sober as they are, “Dune” parts one and two are almost drunk on their own sense of atmosphere.

And with good reason. Like its predecessor, “Dune: Part Two” thrums with an intoxicating big-screen expressionism of monoliths and mosquitos, fevered visions and messianic fervor — more dystopian dream, or nightmare, than a straightforward narrative.

That filmmaking prowess sometimes comes at the expense of other things. Humor, for one, is in shorter supply on Arrakis than water. Javier Bardem, returning as the Fremen leader Stilgar, alone seems to want to breathe a little laughter into all the fiery red sands and mammoth machinery of “Dune.”

“Part Two” primarily follows the rise of Paul Atreides ( Timothée Chalamet ), who, after seeing his father killed and House Atreides routed from the Arrakis capital by House Harkonnen and Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (a monstrously good Stellan Skarsgård), is now living among the Fremen, the desert-dwelling peoples of Arrakis, with his mother Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson).