Murderbot review — Episode 2 — Eye contact: The discomfort of being seen

If the first episode of Murderbot introduced us to a security unit that would rather binge-watch soap operas than deal with actual humans, the second episode, Eye Contact, digs deeper into what it means to be seen, really seen, and the ache of being almost human. In just under thirty minutes, the series pushes us further into Murderbot’s world, a place where the line between equipment and person is unsettlingly thin.

When looking feels like exposure

The episode opens with a simple yet loaded act: Murderbot avoiding eye contact. It’s more than just a quirk; it’s a shield. Eye contact is too intimate and too exposing, and for something caught between construct and person, it’s a discomfort that’s almost unbearable. The title Eye Contact says it all. This isn’t about what Murderbot sees. It’s about what it refuses to let others see.

Echoes of a space opera

One of the best moments in the episode is the reveal that Murderbot’s comforting words to Dr. Arada in the first episode weren’t its own. They were lifted straight from The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon, the same space opera it obsessively watches to avoid thinking too much about its own life.

This is the perfect encapsulation of how Murderbot fakes human interaction, borrowing lines from a soap opera to mimic empathy. It’s a small but gut-punching moment that makes you wonder. If every line is borrowed, does it make the emotion any less real?

There’s a darkly comedic edge to these soap opera scenes, the overacted melodrama and forced lines serving as a biting commentary on the very nature of emotional performance. It’s a touch of levity, but it’s also a stark reminder of how Murderbot relies on fiction to navigate reality, a move that echoes Marvin from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Marvin, the chronically depressed robot with a brain the size of a planet and nothing to do but mope, wielded his deadpan humor like a weapon against the absurdity of existence. Murderbot, on the other hand, uses entertainment as a buffer, numbing itself to its own existential dread. The difference is that while Marvin never transcends his misery, Murderbot is already showing signs of a more complex, layered personality—and it’s only the second episode.

Murderbot: Between servitude and autonomy

PreservationAux insists on treating Murderbot as more than just a tool, a stance that’s more radical than it seems. The first episode already leaned into this tension, with Dr. Ayda Mensah comparing the use of constructs for labor to slavery. It’s a heavy statement, and it lands.

For Murderbot, autonomy is both a gift and a burden, a freedom that’s always conditional. It can disable its governor module and fake compliance, but it’s still trapped in a system that sees it as property. That undercurrent of almost-freedom gives every interaction a charge. Every sarcastic remark, every stolen line from Sanctuary Moon, every time it looks away instead of making eye contact.

Gurathin’s fear and fascination

Gurathin’s presence in this episode sharpens the focus on how constructs are perceived by those who see them as something more or less than human. He’s wary of Murderbot, but he’s also clearly fascinated.

It’s that push and pull that keeps their dynamic so tense. He tries to understand what Murderbot is, but he’s also afraid of what it could become. The irony? Murderbot has zero interest in being understood. It just wants to be left alone with its shows. Also, Gurathin’s biggest sin? Underestimating the power of a SecUnit with unlimited access to space opera spoilers.

A personality all its own

What’s becoming increasingly clear is that Murderbot is already stepping out of the shadow of its influences and establishing a personality uniquely its own. Unlike Marvin, who was defined by his perpetual gloom, Murderbot is already breaking away from its self-imposed apathy, slipping moments of genuine, albeit reluctant, connection between the sarcastic one-liners and borrowed lines.

Like a distant-future cousin of Marvin with binge-watching masquerading as its existential depression, a surprising development for a character that could have easily been reduced to a stereotype. And that’s what makes this adaptation such an unexpected triumph. It takes what could have been a cold, mechanical character and makes it compellingly human (despite itself).

Trending

Eye Contact continues to build on the existential dread and dark humor of the first episode, pushing Murderbot further into that uneasy territory between machine and human. For a series that can hit that hard in under thirty minutes, the potential for what’s to come is even more intriguing. And at this point, I’m already hooked—though Murderbot would definitely roll its eyes at my lack of emotional restraint.

Rating with a touch of flair: 5 out of 5 lines borrowed from [insert your favorite guilty pleasure show here].

×

Was this article helpful?

Thank You for feedback