I brought Purell, took all four rings off of my right hand, and removed my Whoop sleep tracker from my right wrist at Dune: Part Two: We Reviewed the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket. (For Science.).
Yesterday, at three o’clock in the afternoon—a whole damn day before the official theatrical release of Dune: Part Two—I was ready to (for science!) eat exclusively from the Dune popcorn bucket for all 162 minutes of the film’s runtime. If you haven’t yet beheld the viral vessel, it’s a rubbery recreation of the front (face? mouth? butthole?!) of an Arrakian sandworm, which you must reach into in order to retrieve popcorn. It’s sort of like a tentacled suction cup for your hand. I headed into AMC Lincoln Square, expecting a greasy adventure for a solid forty percent of my right arm at Dune: Part Two: We Reviewed the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket. (For Science.).
Guess what? The theater ran out of the damn bucket. (Sickos, all of you.) Shameful! But I won’t lie to you—I was a little relieved. Instead, I polished off an entire large popcorn the old-fashioned way: fistfuls straight to mouth, no rubbery wormhole to circumnavigate. Thankfully, Esquire’s Senior Market Editor, Alfonso Fernandez Navas, saw the film on Wednesday, and he managed to get his hands on the (what I am now gathering is rare!) Duneussy, as he calls it in the review I asked him to film afterward. Here are his thoughts at Dune: Part Two: We Reviewed the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket. (For Science.):
A 10/10 was unexpected. I want to say that I would’ve had a pretty bad time overall eating out of the Dune bucket, but it’s hard to say for sure. It certainly would have slowed me down—and I don’t think I would have finished a quarter of my popcorn during the previews. (Which I did.) So it gets points for extending the lifespan of your popcorn, which is a pretty important spec, considering the movie’s nearly three-hour-long runtime. The Duneussy could very well prevent you from needing a second snack run and missing part of the film, if your bladder hasn’t already betrayed you at Dune: Part Two: We Reviewed the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket. (For Science.).
The mess-prevention factor is worth noting as well, though I personally have zero problem with eating a few stray popcorn kernels off of my shirt throughout a film if need be. I feel like the sensation of coating my entire hand and forearm—once I got so deep into my popcorn that I had to start digging for more—would probably cancel out any cleanliness bonus that the souvenir provides with its small opening. What if I wanted to take a break from the popcorn to sip my drink, eat some candy, or just rest my arm at Dune: Part Two: We Reviewed the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket. (For Science.)?
Would I end up covered in grease? Yesterday, I was also wearing a thick sweater, which I could have hypothetically had to take off (which would have left me looking like Alfonso in a tank top, and I would have probably been cold) or pull up my sleeve until my right arm’s blood flow stopped. Just wear a T-shirt if you want to go to the theater in the hopes of winning the Dune popcorn bucket. At Dune, consider bringing a surgical glove: Second Section: Our Analysis of the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket (For Science).
Now, it is possible that there is an added sensory benefit to eating out of a rubber sandworm. If you’re the type of person who likes to keep their hands busy by playing with fidget spinner-esque toys, the rubbery wormhole will keep your hands occupied over the course of the film, well after you’ve finished your popcorn. But tread lightly. Don’t take it too far. If the person next to me started fisting their popcorn bucket in a rhythmic manner, I’m certain that would have been distracting—even if they were just harmlessly enjoying the sensation of the soft bristles on their hand at Dune: Part Two: We Reviewed the Sandworm Popcorn Bucket. (For Science.).
For anything beyond that? You could very well get arrested. I would recommend you just take the bucket home and do whatever you want with it there. Just… don’t list it on eBay afterward. Please.
