Everything I Need To Be, I Already Am.
A reflection on watching Dune (2021)
I’m always questioning if I’m doing the right thing; if I am becoming the person I need to be. If I don’t know what I’m doing—if other people don’t know what I’m doing—will anybody be proud of me? Is who I am even worthy of someone else's pride?
It’s just over three years since Dune (2021) was released. I knew the smallest amount about the Dune world prior to the movie. I knew it was a book; I knew there was a movie adaptation from the 80s, and I had read about people who believe George Lucas stole/borrowed/what-have-you from Dune for his own sci-fi project. I had not read the book, watched the movie, nor am I the biggest Star Wars fan. But movies have always played a role in my self-understanding; making meaning of the world, making meaning of my life. I was captivated by Dune, drawn in entirely by the trailer, and I felt like I had to see this one.
October 2021 was my last month living in the San Pablo house, a place I called home for the past year and some change alongside three other guys, in Albuquerque. We had been on a month-to-month lease over the past year, and in September I decided I would be out by November 1st. I didn't really have a plan, and to be honest, I didn't really have a reason to leave. In fact, things were great. I lived with some of the best people around, rent was super affordable, and I worked for myself. I wasn’t making a ton of money, but I didn’t need to. I had a roof over my head, food in the fridge, and a solid community. Why leave?
I had an urge, something within that said I needed a change. I needed to leave. And if I was being fully transparent with myself, it was a feeling I was wrestling with since March 2019. But I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to completely acknowledge this feeling’s existence because then I would have to do something about it. I would rather feel about life, think about what I feel, and then feel about what I think about what I feel. Despite what it may look from the outside looking in, intentional action was never my strong suit. Leaving a comfortable situation for an unknown outcome would have to be intentional.
Dune came out Friday October 22nd, 2021, nine days before my last one in the San Pablo house. Movie theaters, along with many other social gathering places, had been closed for a while because of the pandemic. The movie industry was trying to figure out how to proceed with theater releases. Some decided that select movies would be released in theaters while simultaneously releasing them on streaming platforms. Dune was one of them.
I was working from home when I heard what sounded like the trailer I had been watching on a loop for months. Our living room had a sweet projector set up; a massive white wall in front of a slew of non-matching couches and one futon for us to indulge in cinematic home-theater experiences. Sometimes, whatever was being watched would leak out into the hallways, squeeze through the cracks between our doors, and into our ears against our will. I heard some dialogue. I heard some action. But what struck me was the score.
A roommate was watching Dune.
Though I could have joined him, I wanted to watch it in theaters—on a massive silver-screen with impressive surround sound, and sticky floors from spilled soda. The scent of buttered popcorn filling the auditorium and the little whispers “I want to see that” after each preview that piques one’s interest. And here I was unintentionally listening to a long-awaited movie.
Fucking HBO MAX.1
*Command S*2
*Command Q*3
Command the roommate to pause the movie so I don’t see or hear anymore, and head on to the closest Regal theater.4
Two things stood out immediately about this movie. The first was the scale. It was a massive movie. It showed us not just a world but an entire universe. The cinematography of the expansive landscapes and the differing planets capturing how vast this universe was physically, while the dialogue and intimate interactions between characters captured how extensive it was socially and politically. The movie immediately throws you into stories of peoples’ histories, war, survival, oppression, inviting our emotions to participate in the battle of liberation.
Then, we are introduced to the well-respected Atreides family who live and rule the planet Caladan, centering on the son, Paul Atreides. Though the sci-fi world-building contains other-worldly languages, powers, and planets, the second thing I noticed was how oddly relatable it all was.
Sixteen minutes into the movie, there is a conversation between Paul and his father, and planetary governor5, Leto Atreides that I have returned to over and over, especially when I feel I have lost my way.
The scene goes like this:
EXT. CALADAN’S CLIFFTOPS - DUCAL CEMETERY - DAY
PAUL
What if I’m not?LETO
Not what?PAUL
The future of House Atreides.
Leto takes a deep breath. He needs to change the tone of this conversation. He raises his hand, his SIGNET RING glinting.LETO
I told my father I didn’t want this either.
Paul is surprised by this revelation.LETO (CONT'D)
I wanted to be a pilot.PAUL
(astonished)
You never told me that.LETO
My father said, A good man doesn’t seek to lead. He’s called to it, and he answers.
When I was a kid, I didn’t want to be a pilot like Leto, but I did want to be something that I currently am not.
I wanted to be a lawyer. I’m not entirely sure where this ambition came from. Maybe someone told me how much money lawyers made. Maybe it was more reasonable than being a professional athlete. I thought you had to have an alliterative name like Mark McGuire or Barry Bonds or Sammy Sosa to be a professional baseball player. Or at least have a cool name. Like Mike Piazza. Josh Perez wasn’t a cool name like Mike Piazza.
Or maybe it was because I liked to argue and make a case for my reasonings. My parents tell me stories of a young Josh taking them to court within our home, demanding sound reasons as to why I could not call them Danny and Veronica instead of Mom and Dad. Because after all, those were their names.
I’m now thirty-three and I’m not a lawyer or a professional athlete. At some point, I decided to go in different directions from becoming either.6 Unlike Paul, I didn’t have royal shoes destined to be filled by me. But, like Paul, I did feel the pressure wanting to do the right things; doubting and fearing I could be the future anything for my family.
I also related to Leto. What if I gave up something I have always wanted to do for something I felt I had to?
The scene had me thinking: what if I’ve been called to do something but didn’t say yes? Or that I didn’t answer at all; my destiny passing by, floating away into purgatory because I was too afraid to decide out of fear of making the wrong decision. I worked for a long time in an environment that used the language of “calling,” and I believed in it. So when I quit, I felt I was ripped apart. My identity shattered and the solid path I was on crumbled beneath me. Who was I? If I didn’t know, how could anyone else?
Thankfully, the scene between Paul and his father didn’t leave me, or his son, here. The scene continued like this:
LETO
My father said, A good man doesn’t seek to lead. He’s called to it, and he answers.
(gently)
If your answer is no, you’ll still be the only thing I’ve ever needed you to be -- my son.
I’ve been lucky enough to be raised by my dad. I’ve always had a father. Despite having our own ups and downs, our own relational struggles, I never had to do anything to be his son. I just was and always have been.
When this scene ended, I found myself in tears. I needed to hear these words. I wanted to hear them from my dad, from a father figure, from the God I wanted to believe in, from any person in my life. In that moment, nine days before leaving Albuquerque with little to no plan, I needed to know existing was enough. I needed to know that no matter what I decided in life, no matter what I found myself doing, I would still be the only thing people need me to be: me.
I had been working for myself the past year, while also working different jobs. My parents would joke (but not joke) that they didn’t know what I did for money. They didn’t know exactly what I did. Partially because I can be bad at communicating but also because I did a whole lot of different things in media that didn’t boil down to one singularity like being a lawyer, a pilot, or a professional baseball player. There wasn’t a job drawing me to Colorado either. I was going to live with my brother and sister-in-law and their family for who knows how long, doing not exactly sure what.
November 1st, I moved out. I stored most of my stuff at my parents’ house and on November 5th, I drove to Colorado. A few days a week, my dad works 16-hour days starting before sunrise. We didn’t get to chat that morning; he had to go into work by the time I woke up and left. He did text me that day though:
He didn’t know what I was doing. I know that because I didn’t know what I was doing. But what’s left to be proud of if you don’t know what someone is doing?
My dad didn’t know I watched Dune fourteen days before he sent this message, and he didn’t know how fucked up I got from a scene in it. Whenever I feel I’m losing my way and I don’t know what and why I’m doing what I’m doing, I bring myself back to this movie, to this scene, to these words; to my dad saying he is proud of me, not because of what I was doing but because of who I am. I remind myself that I am his son and that is what’s left to be proud of. And it’s more than enough.
Everything I need to be, I already am.
At this time, MAX was still HBO MAX. They didn’t drop the “HBO” until May 2023.
MacOs hotkey for *save file/project/etc*
MacOs hotkey for *quit current program/application/etc*
Before I was loyal AMC A-List Stubs member, I was bound by regal unlimited. It’s a decent pass, unlimited movies are a great perk. And the San Pablo house was 1.2 miles from a Regal theater with an IMAX screen. But Regal Unlimited adds a charge for IMAX, 3D, any non-regular showings. AMC does not and 3 movies a week is more than enough. Here’s a link (I am not sponsored, but maybe I should be). Sign up here :)
The very important leader of a planet. I think.
16 year old Josh’s brain made the decision to not become a lawyer, his body made the decision to not become a professional baseball player.
🥹