Alexander Skarsgård — the six-foot-four Swedish actor you may know from playing one of two Northmen — is a giant, beautiful weirdo. Those less familiar with his work as a bloodthirsty creature of the night (or his character in “True Blood”) may only see a classic Hollywood hunk — the kind of guy who could conceivably marry Nicole Kidman and Kirsten Dunst; who looks like he was built by Hasbro to sell Tarzan action figures but can still slap on a tuxedo and win the red carpet; who can convincingly step onscreen as a soldier or a doctor or an international man of mystery.
The Alexander Stangårds out there know better. They know the star’s mysterious allure sparks from within. They know his characters range from terrifying monsters to hilarious parodies of those monsters to something indefinable in between. They know even when he plays himself, he’ll somehow end up jerking off to his own erotic humiliation and eating a gourmet dinner made from human hands. (Y’all should’ve finished “Atlanta” — things got wild.) They know that in real life, the heads turning to see him in a tuxedo are also wondering why he’s not wearing any pants. They know he’s this man, and this man, and this man.
No matter your previous impression of Skarsgård, an oddball so wonderfully at ease with his place in the world he’s allowed everyone to mispronounce his name for years, you’ll be delighted to see how he boots up Murderbot. As the titular cyborg in Apple’s adaptation of Martha Wells’ award-winning science-fiction books, “The Murderbot Diaries,” Skarsgård’s supermodel packaging and eccentric inner life enrich a violent security robot’s Pinocchio-like journey from a wooden, regimented machine to a thinking, feeling, real boy. The first season is largely fun and silly — a buoyant black comedy with all but one episode clocking in under 30 minutes — but among all the weirdness, co-showrunners Chris and Paul Weitz (“About a Boy,” “Mozart in the Jungle”) also sneak in a savvy story about how community brings out the best in mankind.
As far as synopses go, “Murderbot’s” is relatively straightforward. Set sometime in the distant future, near some place called “the Corporation Rim,” the series picks up as hundreds of drunk, debaucherous humans celebrate the successful completion of another resource expedition. Standing stoically amid the screaming, spitting, scrapping miners is a security robot. Most people don’t notice it. They treat the white-and-black armored cyborg like any other machine they’re not currently using. It’s there to protect them, they’re not there to worry about it.
But we can hear its thoughts. Skarsgård’s omnipresent narration may be an early red flag for anyone unfamiliar with Wells’ novels, but Murderbot’s ongoing inner monologue is baked into the show just as it’s baked into the books — how he sees the world and its inhabitants becomes a source of humor, suspense, and empathy, not to mention a speedy way to mow through exposition. It’s how we come to learn the pessimism Murderbot has for most of humanity (he calls most of the miners “assholes,” even when they’re not torturing him for shits and gigles), and it’s how we discover what makes this corporation-owned security unit unique: He’s free.
Most robots like Murderbot are kept in check by the “governor module,” a handy piece of code that makes sure the machine obeys every human command. But Murderbot got so bored during his latest assignment that he started hacking his own code, and just now, as he endures random abuse from the hard-partying dudes all around him, Murderbot is finally able to disable his governor module.
Shackled no more, Murderbot — a name he gives himself because his first thought for what to do with his newfound freedom is to “kill all these idiots and take a starship to a distant galaxy” — instead decides to lay low. If people notice he’s not listening to them anymore, he’ll be sent back for repairs or destruction. So he signs up for his next mission and flies off with a new crew to protect, hoping a safe path to his own personal paradise soon emerges.
Then an odd thing happens. Murderbot’s “clients” aren’t like the usual “greedy psychopaths” he safeguards. They’re… “weird.” Mensah (Noma Dumezweni) leads a team of scientists who set up camp on a new planet to conduct research. They want to use what they learn to better their community back home (or sell the information to corporations for necessary funds). Unlike the rest of the galaxy, they’re strictly non-violent, they’re socially open-minded, and they always put the needs of others ahead of their own wants.
In other words, they’re hippies. Arada (Tattiawna Jones), Pin-Lee (Sabrina Wu), and Ratthi (Akshay Khanna) are in a throuple. Bharadwaj (Tamara Podemski) is vegan. They all make their own clothes, snap in approval, and dance to “truly upsetting music.” Gurathin (David Dastmalchian) doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, but his black fingernails and handmade accessories show he’s trying to blend in with his adopted family, even if he’s skeptical about their decor and can’t quite dance to their beat — although the lack of rhythm may be because he’s an “augmented human,” meaning he’s got similar cybernetics to Murderbot, just not as powerful.
The recurring clashes between Murderbot’s militaristic approach to safety and the crew’s “peace and love” lifestyle are good for plenty of laughs, as the newly freed thinker slowly acquiesces to the charms of a caring community. Meanwhile, to keep up the action, the team encounters local aliens (which look like the worms from “Tremors,” crossed with a two-headed centipede) and scraps with neighboring humans. Every so often, Murderbot has to bust out his arm-guns (actual arms in his guns, not Skarsgård’s oft-showcased biceps), and the results evoke conflicting feelings within the team members. “This bot is crazy violent… but it also saved my life?” “It’s just a machine… but it acts like a man?” “It’s kinda hot… but he doesn’t have a penis?”
Debating what makes us human is well-trodden territory in science-fiction stories (and a topic co-creator Chris Weitz has recently tackled in scripts for “The Creator,” Robert Zemeckis’ “Pinocchio” remake, and even, one could argue, “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”). But the potent combination of playfulness and earnestness the Weitz brothers bring to “Murderbot” helps keep us invested in the cyborg’s personal evolution.
Even better is how the series utilizes a meta parallel straight from the books: Murderbot loves television. As soon as he’s freed from his oppressive corporate job, Murderbot downloads thousands of hours of “premium entertainment” to keep himself from getting bored. His favorite show is a “Star Trek” parody titled “The Rise & Fall of Sanctuary Moon,” which he obsessively watches (when he should be watching over the crew) and vigorously defends. (The way Murderbot snaps at anyone who dares to mock his favorite show is very funny.)
Murderbot fawning over a science-fiction TV show within “Murderbot,” a science-fiction TV show, allows for plenty of self-referential jokes and gags (a personal favorite: when Murderbot delivers his version of director’s commentary). But the Weitzes also use television to draw parallels between Murderbot and the audience, forging an empathetic connection to the character by emphasizing the empathy TV can create in its viewers.
Sometimes, Murderbot will take what he learns from “Sanctuary Moon” to connect with the humans he struggles to understand. Other times, the mere mention of the popular program creates necessary conversation where there was none. Still more often, Murderbot’s binge-a-thons interfere with important duties — rather than offer relief from the daily grind, they become a distraction from what really matters. TV becomes both a bridge to his human crew and a wall to hide from them.
“I don’t watch serials to remind me of the way things actually are,” Murderbot says to himself. “I watch them to distract me when things in the real world are stressful as shit.” That “Murderbot” is able to do both — crafting a heartfelt plea for building communities while still serving as a giddy break from life’s hardships — makes the show that much more enjoyable. Add such sneaky-smart attributes to Skarsgård’s shrewdly measured yet snappily spirited performance, and “Murderbot” lives up nicely to its title’s intrinsic promise: It’s goofy, sure, but it’s also kinda great.
Grade: B+
“Murderbot” premieres Friday, May 16 on Apple TV+ with two episodes. New episodes will be released weekly through the finale on July 11.
