Having only made one purely avant garde feature that became a smash by playing to freakos at midnight showings and one Oscar-baity period piece, David Lynch was a real weird choice to helm a blockbuster adaptation of Frank Herbert's space opera Dune. But chosen he was, though he couldn't quite be blamed for the critical and commercial disaster it became. Although Lynch's sensibility has never exactly been commercial, he was also at odds with a producer who didn't quit sync up with his vision on this particular project, a truly harrowing production in an inhospitable environment, source material that may be a bit too convoluted and esoteric to translate into matinee fare fit for Star Wars fans, and a truncated run-time that forced the story to get whittled down to a confusing nub. Consequently, Dune is the one David Lynch movie many David Lynch fans-- and David Lynch, himself--disown. But its myriad problems are also what make the story of its making so much more fascinating than, say, the making of Blue Velvet, which was an altogether happier and more satisfying experience for everyone involved.
Writer Max Evry is aware of Dune's flaws, as well as its often ignored charms, which is the correct perspective for anyone qualified to tell its story, which he does in his new book, A Masterpiece in Disarray: David Lynch's Dune, an Oral History. That subtitle is only partially accurate because this book is only intermittently an oral history and doesn't even become one until we're 100 pages into it. Again, Evry is correct. Oral histories fail to get the job done when they rely too much on their interview subjects, who may not cover every necessary part of the story. Evry lets his myriad subjects fill in the gaps but also provides long passages of straight narrative to ensure his making-of account is linear and complete. This is the right way to write an oral history, and A Masterpiece in Disarray is nothing if not complete. The film's unproduced predecessors, casting, scripting, costuming, filming, release, toys, magnificent failures, and legacy are all covered in full detail, whether by Evry's text, his subjects' quotes, or both.
The author goes above and beyond by even talking with actors who were up for roles but didn't get them, such as Zach Galligan and Kenneth Branagh (both would-be Paul Atriedeses). We get the consequential making-of details as well as the inconsequential trivia that makes oral histories fun reads, such as the original plan to cast Divine as the wicked Baron Harkonnen, the surprising details about ever-affable Kyle Maclachlan's geeky demands during his audition, Lynch's bizarre first meeting with the head of Universal's film division, Patrick Stewart's hilariously clueless first conversation with superstar Sting, and the outrageously scatological reason Charlotte Rampling backed out of the project when Alejandro Jodorowsky was still slated to direct. Perhaps best of all, we get a brief but sweet interview with Lynch, himself, who has long been reluctant to talk about an experience that was pretty painful for him.
A Masterpiece in Disarray is superb because of its content, but it's also a pleasure to read because the book itself was crafted with 1984 Publishing's usual luxurious attention to detail: red gilt edges and ribbon bookmark. It's amazing to think the story of a film so universally panned forty years ago would be treated to such a lush treatment today, but it's Evry's storytelling that really earns such lavish attention. Plus, to be fair, Dune really isn't so bad.
