With a grand ensemble like this, it is clear to see that director Jon Watts is acting on the orders of Marvel. Cram the well-refined characters of the Sam Raimi universe and the not-so intensified versions of the Andrew Garfield features into the Marvel meat grinder. Chow down on a big bowl of nostalgia, where once defined characters come together for a big, boring blowout. The Multiverse was hyped up long before Spider-Man: No Way Home was ever announced, yet it is still, in the words of Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) something we know “frighteningly little” about.
Dreams are messages from the deep. Then what is this nightmare? Dune dares to defile the good name of Frank Herbert with a rank and shoddy showcase of how, eventually, all genres will eclipse themselves. How foreboding an opening line that can be, and just how on the nose Denis Villeneuve makes this jargon-heavy space-bound feature. Dune opens with a bold assumption that a second part is to come. Mulling over its political ideologies and the many Houses across the known galaxy, all Dune and Villeneuve’s vision can offer is a weak and febrile scratching of the surface. He would be hard-pressed to hit at anything bigger or better than that, even when the most important pieces linger awkwardly close to the right places.