The dates when films are released play an imperative part in producing meaning among the collective audience. They are strategic for studios to recoup their investments, and it is highly unlikely they take into consideration the timing of that potential meaning created in the grand scheme of things. It is the task of scholars and historians to contextualize all of these sociopolitical factors when examining the nuances of intent vs. impact.

The first installment, released at the apex of COVID, as noted in the first segment of this commentary, was strife with imagery of “protective barriers,"  the Harkonnen hazmat suits, Paul’s mask in preparation for crash landing on Arrakis, Bene Gesserit Veils, etc. After a long delay in its anticipated release, Part 2 made a conspicuous debut in the year of Lynch's 40th anniversary, which also marked its re-release in theaters. Indeed, much has changed in the 40-year interim as well as the three years since Part 1 made its modest opening to empty theaters, with the public unsure of the cinema’s future. Like all relics of the era, DUNE Part 2 reflects the subconscious anxieties of culture. A brief comparison to its Reagan Era counterpart that concerned itself mostly with the commerce and capitalistic nature of Spice Production and of the drug-induced New Age evolution of consciousness through the substance, both these aspects and the Spacing Guild (a huge driving force behind the Emperor’s and Great Houses’ motivations of Herbert’s original novel) are glaringly absent from Villeneuve’s film. Is this vagueness of the powers that be and their motivations intentional?

The concept of fear and fundamentalism is brought up too many times in this three-hour installment to be ignored. The grandiose Shakespearean delivery of dialogue in Lynch’s film has given way to didactic spoon-fed words of the “fremen being oppressed” and that faith and religion fueled by fear will be the formula to defeat the Emperor. Indeed, the once underground advanced civilization Lynch portrayed in 1984 is starkly contrasted to the Third World superstitious peoples of color that Lady Jessica observes are weak-minded and made to be converted to believing that Paul (the White Foreigner) is the Messiah. This is done through fear, not self-development. This plot point is contentious with Chani and her more agnostic Northern tribespeople and with fans of the novel who are wondering why this is a major focus and no mention yet of the Spacing Guild holding the puppet strings of the Great Houses in competition with the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood for “power of the future of the universe." The world “fundamentalists” is also spoken several times to a point of absurdity. It is through them, according to Jessica, that once converted will win the war. All that was missing was the concept of jihad. This film skirted on the realm of Islam without really committing (Stilgar warning Paul of the Jinn in the desert, burqa-like garb for the Reverend Mothers, Middle East desert bombings with injured children crying, etc.). In Lynch’s film, Paul taught the Fremen his “godlike” power through the Weirding Voice Modules and amplifiers. He and his Fremen brothers all ride on top of the worms into battle on the final attack on the Harkonnens and Sardaukar. In this film, the sand conceals warriors, and instead of a leader demonstrating the godlike power within everyone, all hope hinges on Chalamet and his prophecy.

“Fear is the mind killer." Lady Jessica has repeated to herself and her son, yet when convincing the southerners to join him in his battle, Paul yells, “Your mothers warned you about my coming. Fear the moment.”