‘Dune’ proves that the white savior trope is alive and well

Photo courtesy of WikiMedia Commons Denis Villeneuve directed the 2021 film adaption of Frank Herbert’s classic novel “Dune”

By Tasnia Mowla ’23

Opinion Editor

Frank Herbert’s 1965 novel “Dune” is a science-fiction classic that influenced the subsequent development of the genre. Dune is back in headlines following the 2021 film reboot, which is the second most nominated film at the Oscars this year. Herbert has faced criticism for his protagonist Paul Atreides who is a white messiah figure to the Indigenous people of planet Arrakis. At a roundtable conversation with a group of journalists, director Denis Villeneuve responded to the longstanding view that the source material glorified the white savior trope. “It’s a criticism of the idea of a savior, of someone that will come and tell another population how to be, what to believe,”' he said. 

Villeneuve's take on the source material, as well as his recognition of the problem, made audiences curious about how his version of “Dune” would play out. Yet having watched the film, I don’t see any attempt by Villeneuve to criticize Paul Atreides in his role as the savior of Arrakis. Instead, he carries on the age-old tradition of the white savior in film. 

Studio executives have long operated under the idea that white audiences are unable to relate to stories on race unless they see themselves among the characters. Even stories based on real-life events can be altered to create a noble arc for a white character. Take “Freedom Writers” as an example, which shares the story of Erin Gruwell, an English teacher for at-risk students. Set just two years after the 1992 Los Angeles Riots and while voluntary integration was being enforced, racial tensions ran high. The decision to cast a white woman as Gruwell not only appropriated the story and contributions of a person of color, but furthered the white savior narrative.

“Freedom Writers” is not alone in rewriting history. “Hidden Figures” is a biographical film centered on three African American women who worked as mathematicians at NASA during the Space Race. Kevin Costner plays the role of Katherine Johnson’s (Taraji P. Henson) supervisor, Al Harrison. Upon hearing of the racial hostility Johnson faces, he tears down the “colored ladies room” sign and declares, “No more colored restrooms. No more white restrooms … Here at NASA, we all pee the same color.” Except, Harrison never existed. In an interview with Vice, Director Theodore Melfi justified this addition to history. “Someone does the right thing. And so who cares who does the right thing, as long as the right thing is achieved,” he said. But it does matter. Melfi’s decision reinforces that minority women need to be saved and undermines Katherine’s courage and strength to succeed in a male-dominated STEM workplace during the Jim Crow era.

The white savior trope can relegate characters of color to the sidelines of a story in favor of centering white perspectives. As a result, characters of color can come off as two-dimensional, or worse, get painted as passive in their own history. In best picture winner “Green Book,” Dr. Don Shirley, an African American classical and jazz pianist, is introduced to rock & roll legend Little Richard by his white driver, Frank "Tony Lip" Vallelonga. It is incomprehensible for a musician of Shirley’s caliber to not have known Little Richard. There are other instances where the film depicts Shirley as detached from his heritage with Tony, helping him reconnect with his roots and black identity. Following the release of the film, in an Interview with Shadow and Act, Shirley’s family called out the filmmakers of “Green Book,” citing the work as a “symphony of lies.”

White savior narratives can also diminish the agency of characters of color as instigators of change. “The Last Samurai” is set during the 1870s, a time when Japanese tradition and modernity were clashing. As the Emperor and his foreign allies push for Westernization, the samurai mount their final defense. With the last samurai fallen in battle, it is left to Nathan Algren, played by Tom Cruise, to convey the values and traditions of the samurai. His actions convince the Emperor that Japan must not lose sight of its culture in its drive to modernize. In having a white man achieve the goals of the samurai, the film robs its characters of color the right to preserve their heritage.

“Dune” may be set in a future interstellar society where powerful families control planetary fiefs, but the film’s parallels to “The Last Samurai” are uncanny. Both feature reluctant heroes who, despite being part of imperialist forces, rise to defend local populations whose way of life is threatened. 

In “Dune,” Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) lands on the planet Arrakis as a foreigner with limited knowledge of the desert and local Fremen culture. What little he does know comes from “film books” shown through his projector-like device. However, when Paul is thrust into leadership after the sudden passing of his father, he quickly claims his identity as “the voice from the outer world that will lead them [Fremen] to paradise” once he is crowned Emperor.

White savior films suggest that the complexities of racism and discrimination can be solved by the bravery of a well-intentioned individual. They pull audiences into a false sense of comfort. However, racism is systemic, and broad messages of unity and goodwill ultimately do not achieve anything in the fight for equality. This individual level focus oversimplifies characters into categories of good or bad. It communicates to audiences that racism is a choice and fails to encourage self reflection into one’s own biases and prejudices. 

Filmmakers of color regularly create content that challenges audiences to take a hard look at themselves and draw contemporary parallels to history to show the progress we need to make. It is unfortunate that white voices continue to dominate in a space where POC voices are essential.