Set in a future where humans are still doing dumb human things (but now in space!), Murderbot follows a rogue security unit that’s hacked its own system and become sentient. But instead of going full Skynet, this bot just wants to binge serial dramas and avoid eye contact. Unfortunately, the universe won’t let it chill. So now it’s reluctantly protecting its squishy clients, navigating intergalactic nonsense, and dealing with feelings. Gross.
Alexander Skarsgård is Murderbot, and if you thought robots couldn’t have range—Skarsgård proves you hilariously wrong. His dry humour, subtle sarcasm, and gloriously deadpan internal monologues are the true beating (albeit artificial) heart of the series. Think Kermit with PTSD and laser guns.
Big love to Auntie Mensah, played with grace and quiet authority. Ghanaian representation in space? We love to see it. It’s about time we had someone in sci-fi who looks like they’d make you a hot meal and lead a rebellion.
The rest of the cast has charm, potential, and presence—but due to short runtime, we barely scratch the surface of who they really are. Still, they’re compelling puzzle pieces in this tech-noir jigsaw.
Visually? Chef’s kiss. Apple clearly unlocked Ultra Settings on this one. From slick space station corridors to vast alien terrains, every shot oozes money and mood.
The score flips seamlessly between eerie, ambient synths and high-tension stingers, matching Murderbot’s inner chaos perfectly. And the animation? Crisp. Slick. Murderously good. Especially when the blood starts to fly—and oh yes, it does.
The fight scenes are intense, cleanly choreographed, and yes—occasionally drenched in gore. But like a classy wine spill, it’s beautifully messy.
What Murderbot nails is tone. It’s tense and dangerous, then suddenly goofy and charming. Watching this anti-social murder machine make life-or-death decisions based on what it learned from bingeing a low-budget soap opera? That’s the ironic, meta joy of it all.
It’s a series about discovery:
- Outer discovery — exploring new planets, strange lifeforms, and shady corporations
- Inner discovery — as our not-so-little bot learns the highs and lows of emotional intelligence and the horror of small talk
Episodes are short (roughly 20 minutes of content padded to 25), which is both a strength and a flaw. It’s punchy and easily digestible, but often feels like a movie cut into slices. Just when you’re getting comfy, boom—credits.
The finale, though, cranks up the drama. Corporate politics, moral ambiguity, emotional stakes—it pulls you in, pays off the arcs, and sets the stage for (hopefully longer) episodes next season. And yes, we want more. A lot more.
