"Fear is the mind-killer," but movie production is a close second. As Denis Villeneuve's epic movie adaptation of Dune pulls in audiences worldwide, I look back at an earlier struggle to bring that story to the silver screen.
This is the story of David Lynch's Dune...
Dune is an epic story: conceived by Frank Herbert after studying the Oregon Dunes in 1957 he spent five years researching, writing, and revising it before publication. He would go on to write a further five sequels.
Dune is a multi-layered story and a hugely immersive novel. It's about a future where the mind rather the computer is king, aided by the mysterious spice melange. It also has more feuding houses than Game of Thrones.
The novel touches on many themes: ecology, religion, politics, causality, myth. It is probably the best-selling science fiction book ever written.
So obviously Hollywood wanted a slice.
Planet Of The Apes director Arthur P. Jacobs first optioned the rights to Dune in 1971. After his death in 1973 Jean-Paul Gibon acquired them and brought on board Alejandro Jodorowsky to direct.
Jodorowsky's vision for Dune was epic: set design by H.R. Giger, Jean Giraud, and Chris Foss; music by Pink Floyd; with Salvador Dalí, Orson Welles and Mick Jagger in starring roles.
Alas funding problems prevented Jodorowsky's epic from being realised. So in 1976 Dino De Laurentiis purchased the rights for Dune and asked Frank Herbert to write the script. Ridley Scott was scheduled to direct.
Herbert's first script came in at three hours running time, and Ridley Scott figured it would take two and a half years to make the film. As he was already committed to Blade Runner the project would have to wait. But De Laurentiis was impatient to start sooner.
So in 1981, having been impressed by The Elephant Man, De Laurentiis approached David Lynch to direct Dune.
Lynch agreed without first reading the book. De Laurentiis accepted without first watching Eraserhead.
Lynch had turned down directing Return Of The Jedi to take on Dune, and soon immersed himself in its immense story. Seven rewrites later he had a 120 page script crammed with strange and exciting ideas.
Kyle MacLachlan took the lead role of Paul Atreides, with Francesca Annis as Lady Jessica and Patrick Stewart as musical warrior Gurney Halleck. And of course Sting's in it, in some winged underpants.
Filming took place in Mexico with a cast and crew of 1,700 actors and technicians on 16 sound stages, and at a cost of $40 million. Hopes were high for a blockbuster.
Lynch's Dune was certainly closer to Kubrick's 2001 than to Lucas's Star Wars: the language, the costumes, the sets were complex and sometimes frightening. There would be no easy route into the story for the audience.
But Lynch's movie was 3 hours long, and De Laurentiis was determined to have a 2 hour film. So scenes were cut or condensed, with voice-over and narration to camera used to fill in missing details. De Laurentiis personally took over the SFX production.
The project was butchered.
The film was released in December 1984 to the sound of critical raspberries, despite mammoth pre-release hype from the studio. 'Cold', 'confused' and 'grotesque' were some of the kinder words critics had for it.
Producers had been expecting a Star Wars style merchandising boom: toys, activity books and comics had been produced. But few people wanted a toy sandworm or a bubonic Baron Harkonnen in their Christmas stockings.
Trying to cram a book as complex as Dune into two hours is impossible, which is why Ridley Scott had planned to do two films. The film also undervalued the female characters in Dune, with the Bene Gesserit subservient to the male characters.
The film's ending also goes against the main thrust of the novel: Paul Atreides becomes a benevolent messiah - the Kwisatz Haderach - instead of a wary monarch unable to restrain the Fremen.
Lynch certainly succeeds in showing us a truly alien cosmos, and there are some magnificent scenes and sets. But overall his Dune movie was a missed opportunity.
Sting didn't help much either...
However it's worth watching alongside the Villeneuve version, not least for its courageous flaws. Lynch himself recognised he 'sold out' with Dune, and took his name off the film. Twin Peaks was perhaps his redemption.
But that's a story for another day. Now go watch Dune...
(If you're pressed for time you can always just watch the Dune ViewMaster reel...)
(Did you know... Baron Harkonnen was used to smuggle the Metric system into America in 1984? Those Dune activity books weren't just for fun!)
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
Today in pulp: a tale of an unintentionally radical publisher. It only produced 42 books between 1968-9, but it caught the hedonistic, solipsistic, free love mood of the West Coast freakout scene like no other.
This is the story of Essex House...
Essex House was an offshoot of Parliament Press, a California publishing company set up by pulp artist Milton Luros after the market for pulp magazines began to decline. It specialised in stag magazines sold through liquor stores, to skirt around US obscenity publishing laws.
By the 1960s Parliament Press was already selling pornographic novels through its Brandon House imprint, though these were mostly reprints or translations of existing work. Luros was interested in publishing new erotic authors, and set up Essex House to do just that.
Today in pulp... one of my favourite SF authors: Harry Harrison!
Harry Harrison was born Stamford, Connecticut, in 1925. He served in the US Army Air Corps during WWII, but became disheartened with military life. In his spare time he learned Esperanto.
Harrison started his sci-fi career as an illustrator, working with Wally Wood on Weird Fantasy and Weird Science up until 1950. He also wrote for syndicated comic strips, including Flash Gordon and Rick Random.
Today in pulp... Blade Runner! Let's look back at the classic 1982 movie and see how it compares to original novel.
"It's not an easy thing to meet your maker..."
Blade Runner is based on Philip K. Dick's 1968 novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? However 'inspired' may be a better word, as the film is very different to the book.
In the novel Deckard is a bounty hunter for the San Francisco police. The year is 1992; Earth has been ravaged by war and humans are moving to off-world colonies to protect their genetic integrity. They are given organic robots to help them, created by the Rosen Association.
In the 1970s a fascinating engineering battle took place between America and Japan for control of the future. The prize was the world we live in now. And one of the key battles took place on your wrist.
This is the story of the digital watch...
'Digital' is a magical marketing word. Like 'laser' or 'turbo' it suggests progress, mastery and the future. People like those ideas. They like them enough to spend a lot of money on products that have them, especially if they can be a first adopter.
And so it was with the wristwatch. Electronic quartz watches were already a thing by the 1960s: an analogue movement driven by a quartz crystal resonator, powered by a small button battery.
But one American company was setting out on a new timekeeping odyssey...
Today in pulp... let's look back at a Shōjo manga artist whose work celebrated friendships between women: Jun'ichi Nakahara.
Jun'ichi Nakahara was born in Higashikagawa in 1913 and worked as an illustrator, a fashion designer and a doll maker. His work is highly regarded in Japan and he was a significant influence on modern manga art.
In the '20s and '30s Nakahara often drew for Shōjo no Tomo ("Girl's Friend") magazine. The style at the time was for demure, dreamlike imagery, but Nakahara added to this large expressive eyes, often reflecting the light.
Today in pulp I try to decipher 1980s Japanese street style, with the help of Olive: The Magazine for Romantic Girls!
This may involve frills...
Street style is an ever-changing mix of styles, brands, attitudes and poses with various influences. And you normally have to be in the right place at the right time to capture it.
Which is where magazines come in! Photograping, documenting and deconstructing fashion never goes out of style, and in the late 1970s Japanese youth had one key guide to help them: Popeye!