
Dune Prophecy is a science fiction thriller and political intrigue series based on the novel Sisterhood of Dune, exploring the formation of the Bene Geserit. Dune Prophecy is aesthetically inspired by the recent Dune movies and funded due to their success.
Dune Prophecy is set ten thousand years before the Dune novel and movies, with the machine wars still in recent memory and much of the main elements of Dune already in place, such as spice, Arrakis, personal shields, noble houses and the Imperium.
The series is the story of Valya Harkonnen and her rise from unremarkable daughter in a minor noble house to head of the Sisterhood meddling in galactic affairs. Ostensibly, the Sisterhood is a group of female truthtellers and advisers to nobles. In reality, they are a spy network looking to subtly control events. The series opens as a Sisterhood-arranged marriage that would cement the future viability and pliability of the Imperium goes awry.
I initially found Valya’s motivation weak. Revenge drives Valya Harkonnen: revenge against the Imperium for the lie of Harkonnen cowardice during the machine war and revenge against house Atreides for her brother’s assassination. It drives her to kill, manipulate and subvert with no regard for others.
The problem is all this setup happens offscreen. We do not see what the Harkonnen did during the war to warrant such ostracisation. We do not see her brother’s death, whether he died valiantly in an honourable duel or whether it was a dishonourable stab in the back. Seeing these would have justified Valya’s crusade and outrage. It would have made it personal. Without it, we only have an unrelatable, potentially biased character’s word.
Meanwhile, everyone else seems to accept things. They may not be happy – the Harkonnens live on an inhospitable, frigid world, pitifully peddling whale fur – but they move on. They find Valya’s resistance, if not hostility, to the status quo grating and disrespectful. Valya self-righteously dismisses their protests as weakness. Add it to her revenge tally.
Perhaps Dune Prophecy is a parable about Darwinian survival in a (literal) cut-throat universe. However, survival is easier with access to the highest levels of government through a network of flawless lie detectors. Survival is easier when using “the voice” to compel others forcibly. Survival is easier when you and your sisters can easily slaughter elite guards. Her final conversation with Evgeny, the weak and wheezing Harkonnen patriarch, is both a mercy culling and a ploy to bring someone more easily controlled into the fray.
Perhaps Dune Prophecy is about righteous justice, but the Harkonnen sisters’ exceptionalism and unreasonable sacrifices demanded from others show a skewed moral compass. “Sisterhood above all” becomes an autocratic rallying call. Valya fights against forces within the Dune universe because they challenge the Sisterhood’s control, not because of justice, skewed or otherwise.
Valya is the anti-hero the twisted, dystopian Dune universe needs. Her ends justify her means. Whether you believe her version of events or sympathise with her is ultimately immaterial. Valya is the only character in Dune Prophecy with any real agency, so her actions are key.
Meanwhile, Dune Prophecy adopts the aesthetic of recent Dune movies: dimly lit ochre and grey stone buildings contrast with airy, open outdoor spaces. However, while the Dune movies contrasted the black, organic Harkonnen machines, the weathered, practical Fremen and the boxy Atreidies, none of that appears in Dune Prophecy. The budget for the series was likely a fraction of the movies’. Hence, there are no ornithopters, extras for imperial sycophants or the hallmark lingering wide landscape shots from the recent Dune movies. The Dune movies felt like “larger than life” documentaries. Dune Prophecy feels small and not about momentous events that could reshape the universe.
Perhaps I am being unfair. Frank Herbert’s original novel sets a high bar for other stories in the same universe to meet. Not every story can say so much about politics, gender roles, military science and sociology. However, there is so much potential here. Instead of fulfilling it, Dune Prophecy seems too focused on unnecessarily exploring headcanon, while blurring the line between science fiction and fantasy with spiritualism and predestination.
Lost potential aside, Dune Prophecy is not a boring or poorly made series. The plot weaves unpredictably, creating tense moments. The non-linear storytelling sometimes exaggerates the impact of events, reversing the order of cause and effect. The score keeps that retrofuturistic feel, combining tribal and modern instruments to underscore the unsettling feudal and futuristic mix the Dune universe is known for. The costume design is excellent, with the black-veiled sisterhood “witches” and grey, Gestapo-like palace guard uniforms hinting at authoritarianism.
Regardless, Dune Prophecy focuses on merely unravelling the status quo it initially presents and then setting up a subsequent series. The outcomes, if not the plot, are predictable. Dune Prophecy functions well as a thriller but lacks anything substantial. Hopefully, the next season will deal with more profound concepts, like those that elevated the original novel.






















