Can you make a Dune show without Arrakis? Frank Herbert’s seminal sci-fi work is so deeply embedded in its sandy alien planet and subversive hero’s journey, that it’s difficult to imagine expanding the world beyond that — it’s in the title, after all. But the 23 books (only six of which were written by Frank Herbert) would say different. The world of Dune includes lore so intricate and twists so wild that to type them all out would be like transcribing the ravings of a drugged-up madman. So in a universe where humankind has harnessed mind-altering hallucinogenics to navigate interstellar travel and tyrants transform into giant worms, it’s truly remarkable that a Dune spinoff can be boring. But unfortunately, HBO’s new prequel series, Dune: Prophecy, is just that.
Based on Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson's 2012 prequel book Sisterhood of Dune — and a few other sources — Dune: Prophecy is a prequel to Denis Villeneuve’s massively successful Dune films, set 10,000 years before Paul Atreides. The series, developed by Diane Ademu-John and Alison Schapker, follows the origin of the Bene Gesserit, the shadowy organization of superpowered women whose “plans are measured in centuries.” Those mysterious plans include the genesis of a superbeing known as the Kwisatz Haderach — who may or may not be Paul Atreides. Also of note, at this point in the TV series, the Sisterhood isn’t called “the Bene Gesserit” yet, and the big scary prophecies they’re worried about are not as directly connected to the events of Dune as you might think.
Throughout the course of Villeneuve’s Dune and Dune: Part Two, the Bene Gesserit’s schemes are thoroughly fascinating — doled out in just enough fragments to keep you compelled while still not revealing too much. But maybe that was the secret to their intrigue: no matter what you learned about them, you never really knew how the Bene Gesserit ticked. And in the four episodes that critics received of Dune: Prophecy, we get the most frustrating iteration of that — we learn both too much and not enough about this odd, enigmatic Sisterhood.
Dune: Prophecy trades the sandy landscapes of Arrakis for severe staterooms and cold royal courts with its generations-spanning tale following the enigmatic machinations of Valya (Emily Watson) and Tula Harkonnen (Olivia Williams), two leaders of the Sisterhood, aka the proto-Bene Gesserit. The series cuts back and forth between two timelines — when Valya and Tula were young (and played, respectively, by Jessica Barden and Emma Canning) and trying to use their gifts to restore their fallen house to glory; and when they’re older and facing a new threat from a charismatic soldier (Travis Fimmel), who seems to have been imbued with a strange power.
For anyone who wanted a lot more Game of Thrones in their Dune, then Dune: Prophecy is the show for you — most of the series is dedicated to the kind of palace intrigue and political plotting that is more typical of HBO’s beloved dragon show. But in reshaping a Dune story to fit this Game of Thrones mold, Dune: Prophecy sands off the most interesting aspects of its story, while making the series feel indistinguishable from the countless other Game of Thrones knockoffs.
The show’s biggest problem, apart from the confusing nature of its two interweaving timelines, is that it’s clear Dune: Prophecy wants to be a sprawling, immense epic. Valya and Tula are ostensibly the main characters, but we barely get to know them in either their young or older iterations before we’re introduced to dozens of other characters, each with motivations more obscure than the last. Mark Strong and Jodhi May plot their way through a more boring Game of Thrones subplot, while the students of the Sisterhood attempt to unveil the secrets that Valya and Tula seem to be protecting, and horny young royals give the show its signature dose of HBO nudity. But none of these disparate plots cohere together, resulting in a series that’s ultimately more scattered than sprawling.
That’s not to say there aren’t things to like about Dune: Prophecy. Travis Fimmel’s mercurial, dangerously charismatic soldier is one of the show’s highlights, as is Jessica Barden as the younger, much more bloodthirsty Valya. Olivia Williams also lends a fragile power to the older Tula, who seems forever trapped under her domineering sister’s shadow. And Emily Watson is suitably severe as the mysterious older Valya.
But despite some interesting dynamics and potential standout characters, Dune: Prophecy is weighed down too much by its ambitions. The series is more exposition than story, with the first episode dedicating nearly half of its runtime to Tula’s belabored recounting of the robot uprising that led to the Imperium’s current dependence on spice. You can’t totally fault the show for being so slavishly deviated to worldbuilding — that’s almost in its job description as a spinoff. But where Villeneuve’s Dune movies felt immense in how they dropped you into that world with no pretense, Dune: Prophecy almost feels smaller; each bit of new minutiae about this world makes it feel less incredible and more mundane. That’s going to be a drawback for any spinoff, but it’s even more keenly felt in Dune: Prophecy’s long, dark hallways and dimly lit palaces.
I wish I could say that the problem with Dune: Prophecy is that it’s trying to fit a Dune-shaped block into a Game of Thrones-shaped hole, but that’s not the only reason. It’s that the show is boring, confusing, and plodding — none of which are descriptors you want for a series about Jedi-ish space nuns. Villeneuve’s Dune films never go as fully wild as the books, but they at least retain a degree of oddness (Part Two opens on a fetus in the womb!); Prophecy, on the other hand, seems almost afraid to get too weird. That’s why Dune: Prophecy was doomed to fail before it even started — the show’s home on HBO limits it to being a prestige genre show. And we have enough of those.
