Showing posts with label jodorowsky's dune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jodorowsky's dune. Show all posts

Sunday, November 7, 2021

The countdown to Dune

For most of you, this countdown is already over. Dune is open in North America and everyone's got an opinion they've expressed online about it, which I am doing my best to avoid.

Dune doesn't open in Australia, though, until December 2nd. It's a deadline that's approaching fast for a reason that would not apply to most people ... although maybe more than I would have thought. 

See, on October 12th I watched Jodorowsky's Dune, the great 2013 documentary that interviews members of what would have been the principle creative team for Alejandro Jodorowsky's adaptation of Frank Herbert's seminal science fiction novel. It would have gone before cameras in the mid-70s, years before David Lynch's disastrous 1984 version -- even before Star Wars. The world was not ready for it at the time -- potential financiers thought Jodorowsky was crazy -- so all that remains is a massive bound bible of storyboards Jodorowsky had made, the memories of the people who would have been involved, and this film.

It was enough to get me to buy Herbert's book on Amazon when I finished my current book a few days later.

If the film were releasing in Australia in October as it has in the U.S., I wouldn't have done it. I would have had to plow through its 575 pages in less than a week, when that length book would normally take me a couple months.

Or, in this case, hopefully six weeks.

I calculated that if I put in a good effort, I should be able to knock out the whole thing by the Australian release date. I don't usually average 100 pages per week on any book I'm reading, but it's certainly within my capabilities, even as a slow reader. 

Making it a bit extra ambitious, though, was the fact that Jodorowsky says in the film that you don't really understand what's going on in Dune for its first 100 pages. I took that as a challenge rather than a warning, even though I've been known to get beaten by books I could not make sufficient sense of. ("Beaten" does not mean I stopped, except in the case of David Foster Wallace's behemoth Infinite Jest. It just means that the book ended up consuming half my year.) 

Fortunately, Dune doesn't make sense in accessible ways. It throws out a lot of terminology without explaining what it means, but the actual language is straightforward and the main characters are introduced in such a way to make it easy to keep track of them. In fact, I felt momentum rather than hesitation at the start of the book, knowing that what I didn't know would make sense as the book went along, or that the parts that didn't make sense might end up more like flavor notes I couldn't really appreciate than narrative essentials to understanding the story.

But then another event came along that I could have sort of anticipated, though there was every chance that it wouldn't occur before December 2nd:

We bought a house.

This is a big topic and it certainly bears more discussion at another time. I don't mean to just drop it in your lap and leave it there. But let's just say the whole thing is freaking me out enough that I haven't even posted about it on Facebook yet, even though it occurred eight days ago. I certainly don't feel ready to delve into it right now. I'll just say that a house hunt that was most likely to stretch into next year ended abruptly when we were the winning bidders at the first ever auction we attended. I think it still hasn't totally sunk in for me. 

The thing that's important for the current discussion is that this will add a lot more complication to my schedule before December 2nd. Which suddenly looks like a far less attainable deadline for finishing the book, especially since I currently find myself only on page 185.

The next question is whether it even matters if I finish the book before then. And there's a lot of reasons it might not.

For one, I already saw the Lynch version from 1984. I don't remember more than a few hilarious details ("remember the tooth!"), but I've been exposed to this entire story and everything that's happened in it once already. Still, I probably wouldn't be reading the book right now if I had seen it recently and it were fresh in my memory.

What I have seen recently, though, is Jodorowsky's Dune, in which Jodorowsky blithely reveals the fate of one of the movie's main characters. So I already knew that before I made the decision to purchase the book. 

The other reason it may not matter if I finish the book is something I just found out yesterday, after I began drafting this post:

Denis Villeneuve's Dune is not the same as either David Lynch's Dune or Alejandro Jodorowsky's Dune would have been, in that it is only half the story.

I'm glad I happened to be discussing the book in a Facebook chat with a friend yesterday, which led me to the discovery that he had also read the book in the lead-up to watching the movie, and that the movie only covers about the novel's first 300 pages. It's Dune Part I, something the rest of you surely already know, but was news to me.

This brought with it a huge sigh of relief. It'll be easy for me to read another hundred-plus pages in the next three weeks, even with my busier schedule. No problem there.

Now the only problem is trying to read the book with my own ideas of what various characters look like, without being totally poisoned by the cast of Villeneuve's movie.

Since I don't remember very much of Lynch's version, the only thing I could say for sure was that Kyle MacLachlan played Paul Atreidis, the protagonist. I have a suspicion Sting played Baron Harkonnen but I'm not going to look it up to confirm it. 

Not that it matters in those cases, because neither of those two actors are competing for my mental images of Paul and Harkonnen. I know Timothee Chalamet plays Paul in this version, as he has been front and center for the advertising I've already consumed (though I have turned my eyes away so as not to see any of the film's trailers). By necessity he is my Paul as I read this. Then I happened to google Baron Harkonnen to see how he had been depicted in illustrations, failing to realize that of course the actor cast to play him in this version, personal favorite Dave Batista, would also be revealed in that search. So Batista is my Harkonnen.

But then a few others I uncovered by accident, specifically, Jason Momoa as Duncan Idaho. Only just now, as I was selecting a poster for this post, did I note Rebecca Ferguson on the poster and realize that she's the perfect casting for the Bene Gesserit, the Lady Jessica. Perhaps only because of her first name, I had been picturing Jessica as Jessica Chastain, and hope I can continue to do that. (And I discarded that poster and went for the one of just Chalamet so as not to worsen this unconscious matching of names to faces.)

There are other actors that I know are in this film, such as Oscar Isaac, but I don't know what role he plays so I can maintain some additional ignorance on that front. (Oops, just blew that. In the interest of fact-checking to make sure Isaac was, in fact, in the movie, I googled "Is Oscar Isaac in Dune?" in the hope that I would get a simple confirmation. Instead it showed me what character he plays. D'oh.)

It may not really matter if you can maintain your own mental image of a character in a book. We read countless books while already knowing who appeared in the most prominent film adaptations of that book. It's a hazard built in to being a person who's aware of popular culture and cannot possibly read all literature before it gets made into a movie.

Besides, my faculties are failing me a bit on this one anyway. For some reason when each new adviser to Leto Atreidis gets introduced in the book, I mentally cast him as looking like Timothy Spall. Timothy Spall is not in Villeneuve's movie so I have no idea where this came from.

One thing that's for certain is that reading Dune before the movie was not an idea that was unique to me. Not only was there the friend who gave me the approximate amount of the novel that appears in this movie, but another friend had previously told me he'd chosen to read the book in the lead-up as well. He's actually an Australian who could not wait for December 2nd and has found a place to watch it illegally online.

Me personally, I'll be waiting. I'm not concerned about the plot or even really the casting being ruined, but I am concerned about the grandeur being ruined by watching it on a TV screen, as this guy and countless HBO Max subscribers around the world have chosen to do. Because when it all comes down to it, movies like Dune may live and die by the spectacle they put up on the screen, not whether they get every detail right from a book that has notoriously been considered unfilmable over the years.

In a few weeks, I'll be able to add my own opinion to the online chorus. 

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Buying Clear


I've rented maybe a hundred movies from iTunes by now, but until this past week, I hadn't bought a single one.

What changed that? The right price, I guess.

Remember this post from a year ago -- exactly a year ago, to the day -- in which I bemoaned the high cost of adding Tim's Vermeer and Jodorowsky's Dune to my 2014 viewings in time for my deadline? (Still haven't seen either movie, by the way.) As they were not available for rent, I'd have to pay at least $15.99 to own them if I wanted to see them in time.

Well the same won't be said for Alex Gibney's Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief, which I must see as some kind of burden because I've put off watching it about as long as I could while still getting to count it for 2015. Oh, like the two movies above, it isn't available to rent either. But its purchase price was a mere $5.99 -- or a dollar less than what I paid to rent the disappointing I Smile Back.

So while I am still philosophically opposed to buying a movie I haven't seen, since there's not a great likelihood I will want to watch it again (especially with a documentary), at least now the simple math made this one too much of a no-brainer. My conscience is clear -- so to speak.

I can't quite figure out the logic behind pricing Going Clear at $5.99 to own, when you might theoretically make a greater return on renting it for $4.99. Then again, if a person is only going to watch the movie one time, does it really matter whether you rent it to that person or sell it to that person? I have no idea if it is intrinsically more expensive for a movie to be downloaded for purchase than downloaded for rental, but I wouldn't think it would be. The price seems to be set at what the value to the purchaser might be, and if that person has no expected desire to see the movie multiple times, he/she is not going to pay $15.99 or more to own it.

If only iTunes had realized this a year ago.

The other nice thing about owning Going Clear is that when we do get around to watching it, we won't be required to finish it within 24 hours before it expires.

Which could be really helpful in the final six days of my 2015 viewing season, when every viewing is catch as catch can.

However, do you know how this story ends? Take a guess.

When I belatedly reviewed our other two, Australian-based streaming services last night to see what 2015 releases might be available through them, I found Going Clear on Presto. For free.

Can you sell iTunes movies on eBay?

Friday, January 9, 2015

A counterintuitive cost-benefit analysis


There are two 2014 documentaries I've been struggling to get my hands on, and they have very similar titles, both involving a person possessing an object. (Or in one case, not quite possessing it, because his attempts to possess it have been frustrated.)

I've already written about my own frustrated attempts to see Tim's Vermeer, which I thought was a guarantee to land on Netflix streaming. Now it looks like I will also lose my chance to see Jodorowsky's Dune before my deadline next Thursday.

I can actually get both of these movies through iTunes. However, I'd have to buy them, and I just can't do that.

I could own a copy of Jodorowsky's Dune for $15.99. Tim's Vermeer is a little more dear (hey, that rhymes), at $17.99. Neither is available for rent.

But I don't buy movies I haven't seen, just out of general principle. I only want to purchase something if I am intentionally making it a part of my collection.

What's counterintuitive about this way of thinking is that I would pay that same amount, or possibly more, just to watch it one time in the theater.

Sure, I try to see movies on discount movie nights whenever I can, and if all else is equal, I do. But all else is not always equal. There are times when that just won't work, especially when I'm cramming before my ranking deadline. If I'm willing to shell out $20 for a 10:30 a.m. showing of Into the Woods, I'd conceivably pay that same amount for either of the two documentaries listed above. (At least with Into the Woods, I got to sneak into the second half of an illegal double feature: Dumb and Dumber To.)

So buying either of these movies on iTunes would be a savings of at least two dollars, and possibly as many as four. Yet I just ... can't ... do it.

If asked to justify this through some kind of supportable logic, I would probably say that it has to do with an assumption that I am going to watch most movies only one time. If I don't even know whether I like the movie, there's an even greater chance that I'll only watch it once. Increasing the odds of only a single viewing are the fact that both Tim's Vermeer and Jodorowsky's Dune are documentaries. I can count on one hand the documentaries I've watched more than once.

So if there's going to be only one viewing, I'll pay a premium to see it on a big screen, where I have a greater chance of getting the most out of the movie. It's easier to let the movie envelop you, and you can't pause it. So I'll pay the $18, even the $20, for the big screen viewing. To pay that amount just to watch it on my computer ... it doesn't compute.

Then again, it's not like the decisions I make at this time of the year are always financially logical. Let's go back to that Into the Woods screening. I paid $20 for the ticket, and another $15 for a large popcorn and a mango iced tea. (The fact that they don't post the prices of food items at Hoyts concession stands is a longer topic for another time.) If I hadn't snuck into Dumb and Dumber To, I would have paid $35 just to see one movie I didn't even like very much. Sure, the popcorn was a lunch substitute, since I wouldn't be getting out of the second movie until nearly 3 o'clock. But the big outlay of cash for possibly only one movie -- if my attempt to get into the second went belly up -- is not at all justified by any benefit analysis.

If I made the extra effort to get one musical on my slate for 2014, you might say I'd buy either Tim's Vermeer or Jodorowsky's Dune just to add to my lagging total of 2014 documentaries. I've seen six with at least one more to go, but that's a pretty lame total for most years.

But as of right now, the true-to-life documentary Derek's List looks like it will come together without either of those possessive, elusive titles.