47/49
Whether they’re exploring the stars, escaping dystopias, or making the world a better place, these women are the stuff of science fiction. The Dune High School trilogy is a collection of short stories written by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson. The original Dune prequel tells the story of how Rossak’s sister evolved into the Bene Gesserit. The incident with Valya Harkonnen using the voice comes from one called “Mentats of Dune.” The evolution of the Sisters, Mentats, Navigators, and Suk Doctors intertwines throughout all three books. Let’s get this straight: a response to perceived “DEI politics”; in this series, it’s not just boring, it’s fundamentally wrong. Anyone familiar with Frank Herbert’s Dune universe knows that the women, and the Sisters in particular, have always been central to the story. This isn’t some modern “rewrite” to appease the audience—it’s embedded in the very DNA of the story. Complaining about women in power here is like complaining about the sands of a desert. If that makes you uncomfortable, it’s worth considering why that might be. That said, let’s focus on what matters: the series itself. Visually, it’s stunning. The art direction pays homage to the bold aesthetic established in Denis Villeneuve’s films, creating a seamless visual connection to the wider Dune universe. The scope feels ambitious yet intimate, balancing grand, wide shots with more personal, tightly framed moments. Sure, the CGI sometimes shows its budget limitations, but the overall design is so sharp and thoughtful that it hardly matters. It’s not perfect, but it’s close enough to feel engaging. The writing, while not as philosophically dense as the main Dune saga, respects the audience’s intelligence. It doesn’t oversimplify or diminish the complexity of Herbert’s world to satisfy newcomers. Instead, it relies on the power dynamics and political intrigue that make “Sister” so captivating. It’s a cerebral, slow-burning narrative that rewards attention without ever feeling overly indulgent. The final 20 minutes of the first episode, in particular, build tension and payoff that best captures the spirit of Dune, which is gripping and quietly monumental. What sets this series apart is the way it explores Sister, a different dimension of the sprawling Dune universe. The political machinations here are more front and center, offering a fresh perspective on the currents of power that often drive the larger narrative. It has hints of early “Game of Thrones,” but a distinctly Dune sensibility: less gratuitous, more thoughtful, and more closely aligned with the philosophical questions that define the performers and rising stars of Herbert’s work, with a few standout performances that hint at bigger things to come. As for the adaptation itself, it’s clear that the creators took great care not to compromise the integrity of Herbert’s vision. This isn’t a watered-down reimagining—it’s a serious, ambitious continuation of the world he created. Granted, the dense story and shady politics might be daunting to newcomers, but for fans of the books or Villeneuve’s films, it’s an opportunity to broaden the appeal and delve deeper into the nuances of Herbert’s universe. If you’re a newcomer, it’s a worthy entry point, though you might have to work a little harder to keep up. Trust me, the effort is worth it.