Media and Music: “Dune” (2021) and Cultural Ambiguity In Sound
“The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, but a reality to witness.”
At the core of “Dune” is an atmosphere of mystery, and the score behind Denis Villeneuve’s latest adaptation helps the film translate this sense of ambiguity not simply into a visual experience, but into a sweeping sonic landscape.
In Media and Music, our writers take a deep dive into how movies use scores and songs to engage viewers, give new meaning and tone to some of our favorite scenes, and establish themes. It almost goes without saying, but there are spoilers abound.
Written by Wonjune Lee
Images Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures
Frank Herbert’s science fiction epic “Dune” has always been a peculiar story that defies the traditional genre classification. It’s a science fiction novel that takes place in the future on a faraway desert planet, but instead of a focus on technology, the character dynamics and their interior lives are the center of the story. It’s a tale about an honorable family’s search for justice — until it isn’t. It’s a story about the power of religion, until it becomes one about the dangers of fanaticism. Denis Villeneuve’s 2021 adaptation of “Dune” once again attempts to translate the story’s strangeness onto the silver screen, and unlike previous efforts, succeeds entirely in creating a unique atmosphere fit for the tragedy of Paul Atreides. While the visual elements of “Dune” certainly play a role in Villeneuve’s success, it pales in comparison to the effect of its Oscar-winning score, which permeates every moment of the film, creating the basis from which a tale of epic proportions is told.
In telling a story of humanity set millenia into the future, Frank Herbert took elements from cultures around the world, imagining how they might merge and amalgamate as time passes. From hints at Christian imagery in the relationship between the Messianic Muad’ Dib and his mother Jessica to the embedding of Arabic words in different terminology, the story develops a sort of cultural ambiguity. Denis Villeneuve succeeds in creating a visual language with elements such as costume and set design — but this is best translated through composer Hans Zimmer’s score, which like Herbert’s original story, refuses to be classified as or limited by the bounds of one genre.
Zimmer’s score hits the audience even before the logos roll with the musical equivalent of a sledgehammer. A snippet of low Mongolian throat singing (“Dreams are messages from the deep”) shakes the theater, and ends as abruptly as it begins. This sudden introduction establishes the idea that the film will not sound the way audiences might expect, with stereotypical themes inspired by Middle Eastern music, maybe filled with sounds of Oud and Santur instruments. In fact, Arrakis will be hard to place. Much like the entirety of Dune and the epic of Paul Atreides, it feels familiar in some ways, yet ultimately foreign.
As the story is truly set in motion, the music moves accordingly with “Dream of Arrakis,” an arrangement that fuses traditional instruments with electronic sounds. It incorporates what could be argued is an overused cliché in Hans Zimmer’s music: low, booming synth tones meant to shake a theater. In “Dune,” however, this doesn’t feel as jarring as it has in Zimmer’s previous work (like in “Dunkirk,” for instance). In fact, it adds to the contextual ambiguity surrounding the story, with Zimmer himself noting that electronic sounds served as a disguise over more traditional ethnic sounds. It’s easy to forget that “Dune” takes place far into the future: the film features sword duels instead of futuristic laser weapons, absolutely no computers, and more desert scenery than that of futuristic civilizations, effortlessly combining sleek futuristic architecture and harsh desert life. The soundtrack by Hans Zimmer is the same way. Despite using elements like the aforementioned Mongolian throat singing, there is a distinctly electronic undertone to most of the film’s music.
Another example of the mixture of traditional and electronic sounds is the track “Bene Gesserit,” which plays during the first onscreen appearance of the eponymous sisterhood, a mysterious group of psychic nuns who influence intergalactic politics with the goal of birthing a messianic figure called the “Kwisatz Haderach.” The track begins with female chanting akin to those heard in Gregorian chants, along with whisper-like voices, but is underlined by low buzzing and abrasive sounds that are electronic and almost industrial. Like the group it is meant to represent, the track is a strange mixture of both the ancient and the futuristic.
Zimmer’s focus on this blend of unconventional sounds continues into his exploration of the sound of the Fremen, native warriors of Arrakis, in the track “Sanctuary.” Playing as both the audience and Paul Atreides become familiarized with the Fremen and their way of life, the track incorporates more middle-eastern inspired sounds –at least compared to tracks like “Bene Gesserit.” The track opens with the slightest whiff of a percussion instrument similar to an Arabic “Sombaty” that fades into a plucked instrument that evokes the sounds of the aforementioned Oud and Santur. However, these more traditional desert-like instruments fade out in mere seconds, leaving the audience once again with synthesized, futuristic sounds. The visual depiction of the Fremen is heavily influenced by nomadic cultures in the Arabian peninsula and North Africa, yet it establishes them as inventors of novel futuristic technology like water-recycling stillsuits. “Sanctuary” mimics that. The Fremens have a unique audio signature that is electronic at heart, yet it hints at remaining accents of ancient cultures on Earth.
As with all great scores, Zimmer’s “Dune” soundtrack ends with a bang, in the form of “My Road Leads Into the Desert.” As the film comes to an end, Paul Atreides has hit rock bottom. He has reached the “Abyss” stage of the hero’s journey, where he must reinvent himself in order to overcome the challenges that plague him and defeat his adversaries. Having lost everything but his mother and his name, he treks into the desert as a new member of the Fremen, hunched over in defeat. “My Road Leads Into the Desert” follows this closely, with slow restrained sounds highlighted by Zimmer’s signature deep synthesizer dips that signal the abyss Paul Atreides is walking into. But as the track builds up, Paul witnesses over the horizon the true power of the Fremen — their mastery of the desert and its inhabitants. As Paul realizes that he has begun his transformation, Zimmer’s music assaults the theater. Every instrument of the track, from the chants to the strings and his signature synthesizer, ramp up into an uplifting climax, while the camera pans over the expanse of the desert and the possibilities to come. And as it lingers on the future, both the film and Zimmer’s score come to an abrupt end, with the promise of more to come.
The greatness of Zimmer’s score comes from a deep understanding of the story it serves, which doesn’t just touch its different beats and characters, but its atmosphere. This is extremely important for a story like “Dune,” that is defined just as much by its uncomfortable, strange, and almost psychedelic undertone as it is by its thematic progression. Zimmer said in an appearance on the Song Exploder podcast that he had loved “Dune” as a child, and that he gave up the opportunity to work with Christopher Nolan, a director he’s partnered with many times, to work on the soundtrack for Denis Villeneuve’s “Dune.” His love of the source material really shines through in his exploration of the sounds of Arrakis, and we can only hope that the continuation of Zimmer’s work on “Dune”: Part Two will display the same passion, as he follows Paul Atreides deeper into the desert.