Murderbot review — episode 4 Escape Velocity Protocol: the cost of staying in control

It’s not the advanced combat protocols or the strategic precision that save Murderbot this time. It’s Sanctuary Moon.

In this episode, we pick up right where the last cliffhanger left us: Murderbot has been captured by another security unit, partially offline, vulnerable. It’s trapped, stuck in a loop, teetering on the edge of losing control. And yet, what echoes through its mind isn’t a desperate override or a brilliant tactical plan. It’s the theme song of Sanctuary Moon, its beloved guilty-pleasure space sub-opera.

The opening is layered beautifully: we first see the human workers on the factory floor, building new SecUnits, chatting casually about Sanctuary Moon. It’s light, almost throwaway, but it plants the seed. Because when we cut back to Murderbot, restrained and nearly overtaken, it’s this fragment of trashy space sub-opera that bubbles up.

The show’s theme fills its mind like a lifeline, and it starts humming, half-conscious, half-intentional. It’s tragicomic, absurd, and yet utterly brilliant. That ridiculous, over-the-top soap suddenly isn’t just entertainment; it becomes a character in its own right, the spark that lets Murderbot break the moment, distract its captor, and fight back.

This is what makes the series so special. Murderbot is never just a machine, never just a weapon. It’s shaped by the odd, soft, human edges it’s picked up: the shows it watches, the attachments it forms, the scraps of personality it never wanted but can’t shake off. And in this episode, the writers pull off something remarkable. They turn Sanctuary Moon into more than a background gag. It’s the soul of the attempt to escape.

The unexpected hero: Dr. Mensah steps in

Just when things seem at their bleakest, another hero steps forward, and it’s not who we expect.

Dr. Mensah, the calm, thoughtful human presence in Murderbot’s life, arrives at the crucial moment. We’re set up to believe this will be a solo fight, a desperate escape powered by Murderbot’s own ingenuity. But the series refuses to play by simple action beats. Instead, Mensah appears, wielding a mining drill of all things, and uses it to try and kill the SecUnit threatening Murderbot.

It’s a brilliant, sharp twist. Not only does it subvert the “Murderbot rescues itself” formula, it reminds us of the trust and teamwork that have been quietly building across the season. This isn’t just Murderbot’s fight, it’s theirs. And in that second, Dr. Mensah’s presence carries weight far beyond the action itself. It’s about her commitment, her bravery, and her refusal to let Murderbot face this alone.

What’s especially satisfying is that the episode doesn’t telegraph this moment. It’s earned, but surprising. Where the previous episode stumbled slightly by feeling a bit stolen and then rebounding with that creepy hunger at the end, this one delivers tension, humor, and payoff all in balance. It’s not afraid to let its human characters shine alongside its reluctant SecUnit hero.

Tragicomedy at the edge of control

What makes this episode linger isn’t just the action or the clever twists. It’s the uneasy, sharp-edged humor threading through Murderbot’s near-collapse.

While the malicious software is downloading, poised to take control, Murderbot’s mind starts slipping. It’s half-joking, half-delirious, blurring the lines between reality and the ridiculous. One moment stands out: Murderbot mutters to Dr. Mensah that Dr. Mensah might be an intrepid galactic explorer, a line straight out of Sanctuary Moon. It’s hilarious, but it’s also terrifying.

Because beneath the comedy is the real danger: Murderbot is losing itself. The show balances this tension beautifully. We’re laughing, but we’re also clenching our fists, wondering if this will be the moment it slips too far, the moment we watch it become just another tool under someone else’s control.

This balance between levity and dread is where the episode truly shines. It knows exactly when to let us breathe and when to remind us what’s at stake. Murderbot’s love of cheesy space operas isn’t just a character quirk anymore. It’s the emotional core that keeps pulling it back, even as the edges of its mind fray.

Desperation, tension, and a web of unlikely heroes

The final stretch of the episode is a masterclass in controlled chaos. Even as Murderbot is still semi-compromised, teetering on the edge of full takeover, help keeps arriving, but not in the neat, heroic way you might expect.

More members of the crew show up unexpectedly, stepping into the chaos to hold the line, buy time, and pull Murderbot back from the brink. These aren’t traditional action heroes. They’re scientists, explorers, people out of their depth. But here, they become essential.

The episode leans into the idea that survival isn’t about one lone savior. It’s a patchwork of messy, desperate efforts, all tangled together at the last possible second.

Meanwhile, the real gut punch comes from the SecUnit pushing Murderbot toward its worst nightmare: turning on Dr. Mensah and the team. We’re not just watching a physical fight. We’re watching Murderbot’s identity fracture, its autonomy slip, as the minutes tick down. It’s tense right up to the closing moments, with the question hanging heavy over everything: will it lose the fight inside before anyone can save it?

And then, in a moment that’s as funny as it is heartbreaking, Murderbot stretches out its hand, pulls the module from the back of its neck, and mutters to Dr. Mensah, “I hate eye contact.” It’s pure Murderbot: awkward, self-aware, and just barely holding it together.

A gut-wrenching cliffhanger

In the final moments, the episode hits its darkest, most gut-wrenching note yet. Murderbot, fully aware that the module’s takeover is almost complete, realizes the unthinkable: it can’t stop this alone. It quietly tells Dr. Mensah that they’ll have to kill it because if they don’t, it’s going to kill all of them.

Everybody freezes. No one wants to do it. They plead that Gurathin can fix the system later, that there’s still hope. But Murderbot knows better. In one of the most harrowing and self-aware moves we’ve seen from the character, it presses the gun to its own body, preparing to pull the trigger on itself.

And then, the screen cuts to black.

It’s a brutal and yet perfect cliffhanger, not just because of the immediate physical danger, but because of what it says about Murderbot’s journey. For all its awkward jokes, space opera references and biting humor, this moment cuts to the core: this is a SecUnit willing to sacrifice itself to protect the people it never wanted to care about, but now can’t help loving.

Rating: 5 out of 5 sanctuary moons