Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya in Dune: Part Two (Warner Bros.)

Somehow Dune: Part Two continues to craft such gorgeous wide shots out of nothing but sand. Even Anakin “I hate sand” Skywalker would probably be in awe of planet Arrakis’s endless sandscapes, or at the very least Denis Villeneuve’s interpretation of Frank Herbert’s beloved sci-fi novel. As he should. Dune: Part Two is yet another masterpiece on Villeneuve’s behalf, crafting a sweeping, epic tale of revenge, zealotry, and anti-colonialist rebellion out of a story once deemed unfilmable, with the surprise twist that the saga of Paul Atreides (Timotheé Chalamet) is, at heart, a tragedy.

Perhaps the Anakin comparisons are warranted. While Dune holds a significant impact on modern sci-fi storytelling—including George Lucas’s original Star Wars—it remains unique for how Herbert approached the idea of the Chosen Ones: your Luke Skywalker or Frodo or Harry Potter, a noble or good-natured figure tasked with righting certain wrongs and emerging from their struggle a true hero. However, Dune subverts that trope at every turn, turning its messianic, preordained leader into a cautionary tale of religious extremism and the futility of placing total faith in such idols. That is the fate that befalls Paul, who launches a multipronged war against the planet’s former overlords House Harkonnen and the Dune universe’s galactic political regime at the cost of becoming the orchestrator of a new, greater destruction.

Picking where Dune: Part One left off, the young duke and his mother, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), have attempted to integrate themselves into Arrakis’s native Fremen culture while evading Harkonnen assassins. For Paul, this means becoming one with the indigenous group, be it learning how to survive the desert, ride the planet’s massive sandworms, or launch guerilla attacks against the spice production machines, thus depriving Harkonnen leadership of the galaxy’s most coveted energy source. This loyalty earns him the romantic curiosity of Fremen warrior Chani (Zendaya) and the faith of leader Stilgar (Javier Bardem), who grows increasingly certain that Paul is the fabled Lisan al Gaib who will lead the Fremen to victory against their oppressors.

Dune: Part Two’s story feels like watching a horror film in slow motion. The more you see the mechanisms and scheming at play, the greater the sense that our characters are barreling toward a devastating outcome with no way to stop. Yet Villeneuve and cinematographer Greig Fraser imbue each scene with a justifiable sense of awe. Every inch of this film, from the spice-infused landmasses of Arrakis’s deserts to the black-and-white Triumph of the Will–inspired military regiments, looks grandiose and distinct. More so, they enhance the action, be it Paul and Chani using a spice machine’s parts to hide from an aerial attack or villainous newcomer Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen (Austin Butler) partaking in a gladiatorial tryst for the sadistic glee of it all. Dune’s world, quite simply, feels alive and big.

The worst thing you can say about Part Two is that its sprawling nature limits key characters’ screen time. Christopher Walken and Florence Pugh tend to pop in and out of the opening act before gaining a sizable role in the climax, while Dave Bautista’s brutal Harkonnen enforcer Glossu Rabban feels only slightly more utilized compared to Part One. The same goes for big names like Léa Seydoux and Anya Taylor-Joy, whose characters exist largely to tease major sequel events. But these appearances, however brief, are part of the intricacies and conspiracies behind this web of space Game of Thrones politics.

The imposing spectacle helps mask the unease behind Dune: Part Two’s Shakespearian conclusion. Like any sequel, it ups the ante on Dune’s worldbuilding (and Hans Zimmer’s score), from stranger supernatural abilities to fully utilizing sandworms as lumbering mile-wide tanks in battle. Villeneuve’s genius lies in giving the audience reason to cheer on its hero… up until the moment his full, predetermined endgame becomes clear. Dune: Part Two leads you on with the idea that we’re watching an avenging hero. In reality, we’re seeing the inevitable, deeply disconcerting outcome of where following a messiah figure takes a culture. No matter his seemingly heroic intentions, the path forward is paved with blood.