Let’s talk about THAT SCENE, shall we? The big scene of episode 8, when both Alexander Skarsgard and David Dastmalchian acted their fucking asses off in a mess of mutual vulnerability, mutual aggression and betrayal, and mutual destruction.Â
First off, I have to acknowledge the double-entendres absolutely littering this scene. The mutual vulnerability! The physical link-up, plugging into one another. Digging into their most private (mental) places. The request for fucking restraint followed by an electronic blindfolding. Shit, man, if there aren’t 18000 buck-wild Murderathin fics coming out of this one episode, the fandom is seriously dropping the very kinky ball that is this absolute shit-show of a relationship.
Anyway! Onto more serious discussions.Â
First off, we learn so much in such a short time. This show has been a masterclass at utilizing a limited run-time well, demanding that everything on screen pull double or triple duty, layered with meanings and implications, and this scene is no different. Through their mutual accusations, we get mutual confessions. Murderbot uses an instance of mutual vulnerability to dig into Gurathin’s mind to try to find dirt on him, only to get lost in his thoughts. It exposes Gurathin’s most closely-guarded secret—his unrequited love for Mensah—but also Gurathin’s belief that he is fundamentally unloveable. And the accusation is read out in first-person, transforming it into a confession. Because Murderbot very much sees itself as unloveable too.
And Gurathin has simultaneously dug into Murderbot, uncovering the fragmented memories of the massacre, and its actual name. And much like Murderbot, what we see is equal parts accusation and a horrified confession. Gurathin is in tears as he watches through the massacre footage (and kudos to the special effects folks for playing the footage over both Dastmalchian’s and Skarsgard’s eyes during the scene, showing both of them trapped in the same instant together), blurting out the revelation in third person rather than first, but following it up immediately with his accusations about being defective. A danger to everyone around him. One thought from something terrible.
Sounds a lot like self-loathing, doesn’t it? And that’s what this scene is all about. Two people who can’t help but dig and pry and hurt one another because they see themselves in the other. And they hate themselves. They are both terrified of being defective, of being somehow involved in terrible acts that led to deaths. We don’t know if Gurathin killed people directly, but he almost certainly had the information he gathered used to kill people. He was responsible, maybe. Just like Murderbot.
And they are both terrified of falling back into that place. It’s why they’re both terrified, more than anything, of being controlled. Murderbot broke free of its governor module, but still works for the Company. It still isn’t a fully independent being and never will be so long as it’s a part of this organization. Its small pieces of full independence are its thoughts and its name, and Gurathin exposed both of those.Â
Gurathin is terrified of falling back into substance abuse. Realizing that it was medical painkillers that were the first step to getting him thoroughly addicted and compliant was awful, because it implies either a past physical trauma or—I think more likely—pain medications as part of the augmenting procedures. You have to imagine having cybernetics laced into your brain and replacing your eyes has to be incredibly painful. And from there it was a slide downward into addiction, likely deliberately by Gurathin’s employers.
But I also find it interesting that, despite the compulsive need to dig at one another and hurt one another, there is also another impulse at play in this scene: some degree of caregiving and weird trust. Murderbot did NOT have to consent to plugging itself into Gurathin to try to bypass his pain receptors and act as a non-drug alternative to pain management during the surgery. It may say that it did this because it would find Gurathin screaming to be irritating, but that seems flimsy. And Gurathin DEFINITELY didn’t have to ask Murderbot to restrain him, or accept when it blanked out his vision as well.Â
There is a weird, almost unconscious trust and care there. I feel like this is something that is going to be more explored, and is the basis for something less destructive between them. I also think it speaks to the impulse on both their parts to want forgiveness, care, trust, and love. They don’t forgive themselves. They don’t care about themselves as they should. They don’t trust or love themselves.
But deep down, they both still want that for themselves, even if they are both completely incapable of articulating that outside of accusations at the moment.
This whole scene was just working on so many levels, and they weren’t pleasant or comfortable levels. And I love how the show digs into that through these characters, their dumpster-fire relationship, and all the cracks in their psyches they keep exposing because of one another.
What this scene is really exposing is this mutual desperation for connection. They are afraid of loss of control, they are deeply self-loathing, but the seed of their personal growth lies in this craving for connection.
