Denis Villeneuve’s Dune: Part Two delves deep into themes of colonialism, environmentalism, and religion, as rival factions battle for dominance over the desert world of Arrakis. This extraordinary continuation of the visual and narrative storytelling begun in Part One showcases the remarkable work of Production Designer Patrice Vermette and Set Decorator Shane Vieau. Their designs transcend aesthetics, offering tangible reflections of the cultures and identities of the Part Two’s three primary worlds: the resilient Fremen of Arrakis, the oppressive Harkonnen of Giedi Prime, and the opulent Imperial society of Kaitain.

Through meticulous world-building, the design team infused the sets, furniture, and architecture with symbolism and cultural depth, blending practical craftsmanship with artistic vision. In an exclusive discussion with Film and Furniture’s Paula Benson, Vermette and Vieau reveal the design secrets of Dune: Part Two and how these spaces narrate the stories of their inhabitants.

Read on, and be sure to catch our accompanying video interview—it’s packed with fascinating behind-the-scenes secrets! A must-watch for Dune fans and anyone who revels in the intricate design details that bring filmmaking to life.

 

The Fremen: Harmony with Nature on Arrakis

The harsh, unforgiving desert landscape of Arrakis is home to the Fremen, a people whose survival depends on a deep relationship of nature. Patrice Vermette describes the Fremen as “utilitarian”, with every object in their spaces serving a purpose. Their architecture is carved into the rock like ancient caves, inspired by nomadic Bedouin dwellings, and their environments are both functional and deeply symbolic.

“They’re always on survival mode, but inspired by nature,” Vermette explains. The Fremen observe their surroundings, adapting structures to mimic the resilience of nature’s most enduring creatures. For example, their tents are designed to resemble cockroach shells, allowing wind to sweep over them seamlessly. Their water-collecting nets echo spider webs, a nod to the intricate ways nature preserves life.

Inside the cave dwellings, the walls are etched with carvings—not merely for decoration but as an act of storytelling. “We imagined they’d try to write their stories,” Vermette says, “as a way to say, ‘We existed.’” The cave of birds, a sanctuary after the Harkonnen attack, features fingerprint motifs—a uniquely human touch that speaks to individuality and legacy.

The desert itself became a dynamic character in the film. Shot in Jordan and Abu Dhabi, Vermette noted the challenges of working with ever-changing dunes sculpted by the wind. To navigate the shifting sands, the team constructed over 37 kilometres of access roads, creating the infrastructure to bring the vast Arrakis to life.

The sandworm ride—a pivotal moment in the film—was an ambitious undertaking. A full-scale, 80-foot worm skin was constructed, with its textured surface inspired by cracked dry lakes and tree bark. The mechanical rigs, built to mimic the worm’s movement, allowed for both vertical and horizontal shooting, blending practical effects with Denis Villeneuve’s childlike wonder for epic storytelling.

Throughout the design process, Vermette and Shane Vieau emphasised the collaborative nature of their work. From creating light effects with gaffers using car headlights to fine-tuning black textures with scenic painters under cinematographer Greig Fraser’s lighting, the team constantly adapted and innovated. One notable example is the “glow-globe” light effect in the hidden arsenal sequence. Vermette envisioned beams of light piercing through darkness but wanted a practical solution. Vieau and Fraser developed the effect using a rod with car lights mounted on a techno crane, creating the ethereal beams seen in the film—proof that imagination and engineering go hand in hand.

The Harkonnen: Brutalist Dominance on Giedi Prime

In stark contrast to the natural harmony of Arrakis, the Harkonnen world of Giedi Prime is an industrial, dystopian nightmare. Dark, oppressive, and devoid of warmth, it reflects the Harkonnen drive to dominate nature rather than live with it.

Vermette reveals an unexpected inspiration for the Harkonnen aesthetic: black septic tanks. “Driving outside Montreal, I saw a field of black molded septic tanks covered in dust. It looked like Giedi Prime,” he says. These shapes evolved into the undulating black curves seen throughout the sets—from the Baron’s grotesque bath, inspired by a toilet tank’s float, to the spider-like architecture of Lady Fenring’s bedroom. The undulations repeat across buildings, thrones, and props, creating a cohesive yet unsettling visual language.

One of the most striking design choices was the use of black-and-white infrared cinematography to reflect Giedi Prime’s “black sun.” This decision, made by Villeneuve and cinematographer Greig Fraser, added a surreal, alien quality to the world—but not without challenges. Black fabrics sometimes appeared white under the infrared camera, and tattoos hidden by makeup were suddenly visible.

The battle arena, where Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler) fights gladiators, is triangular—a departure from the traditional elliptical colosseum. Vermette explains that the triangle offered a more dramatic shape and ensured every spectator had a perfect view of the violence, a fitting metaphor for the Harkonnen ethos.

Even the Baron’s floating throne was a marvel of practical effects. Vieau worked with the key grip team to place the throne and its breathing apparatus on three separate cranes, allowing the components to move independently—an unsettling visual that highlights the Harkonnen’s grotesque power.

The wide procession avenue on Giedi Prime evokes the authoritarian grandeur of Soviet architecture mixed with Italian Futurist influences, particularly the stepped skyscrapers of Antonio Sant’Elia. The biomorphic curves and art deco undertones add a layer of unsettling beauty to an otherwise oppressive world.

 

The Imperial World: Timeless Grandeur on Kaitain

A highlight of Dune: Part Two is the Imperial planet, which showcases gardens and architecture by the Italian architect Carlo Scarpa. Vermette revealed that Scarpa’s work had already influenced the stepped volumes of Kaladan and Arrakeen in the first film. For Part Two, Vermette took the opportunity to pay direct tribute by shooting at Scarpa’s Brion Tomb in Altivole, Italy.

The decision to incorporate a real-world architectural masterpiece underscores the timeless nature of Scarpa’s designs, which balance brutalist strength with delicate detail—a fitting aesthetic for the grandeur of the Imperial setting.

In one memorable scene, Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh) sits at a desk, recording her observations on a shigawire, a dictaphone-like device that engraves sound onto a cylinder. The desk and accompanying chair, reminiscent of Bugatti designs, were custom-made by Vieau and his team for the film, featuring leather inlay, copper details, and hand-painted gold finishes – all an homage to Italian design. A gold cabinet behind her adds a final flourish, highlighting the Imperial world’s opulent elegance.

This scene captures the essence of Kaitain: a place of wealth, sophistication, and political power. The Scarpa-inspired design blurs the line between modernism and antiquity, grounding the audience in a world that feels simultaneously ancient and futuristic.

Identity Through Design

The worlds of Dune: Part Two are not just visual spectacles—they are reflections of identity, culture, and power. From the Fremen, who coexist with nature, to the Harkonnen’s brutalist monstrosities that seek to dominate it, to the Imperial world’s architectural elegance that exudes authority, every detail tells a story.

Vermette and Vieau’s collaboration with Denis Villeneuve and the wider team resulted in spaces that feel alive, meaningful, and immersive. As Vieau aptly notes, Dune is “a perfect reflection of how texture, materiality, and purpose can bring a world to life.”

Whether it’s a sandworm rig, a Brutalist throne, or a Scarpa pergola, the design legacy of Dune: Part Two is one of profound craftsmanship and storytelling. For lovers of film and design, it’s a masterclass in how spaces can shape not just worlds, but the identities of those who inhabit them.