Apple TV’s Murderbot Diaries—an adaptation of Martha Wells’ critically acclaimed novellas—makes a clear point: good television doesn’t have to strictly adhere doesn’t have to strictly adhere to its source material.
This reimagining of gritty, visually immersive content recasts Murderbot not as a mere translation of the original on-the-page character but as a streamlined evolution catering to broader, perhaps less “literary” viewership.
The most common acclaim the show has received is about its design, which is futuristic and is reportedly inspired by various other sci-fi movies from various other sci-fi movies, rhythm—likely referring to pacing and narrative style—and relevancy, which appears to highlight the show’s focus on timely social issues.
Faithful Deviations What the Show Keeps and What It Discards
The basic premise of Murderbot—an android killer gone rogue who, when not on missions, watches soap operas and looks out for human interests—is still there. However, the adaptation bypasses the introspective voice that made Wells’ writing so lovable, replacing it with a more fast-paced narrative that feels, at times, like being trapped inside a futuristic casino, overstimulating, relentless, and designed to keep you moving from one dazzling distraction to the next.
While the books reside in the internal tension of an instrument that is also sentient, the show externalizes a lot of this conflict through evocative cinematography, flashbacks to past events, and character-driven dialogue.
The most controversial change involves the narrative structure. Those who are fans of the novellas will probably say that the TV show’s been reordering events and compressing plot points, fusing whole books into a single episode.
These narrative freedoms are likely imposed by the constraints and ambitions of serialized streaming. Apple saw Murderbot as something more than a niche sci-fi title clearly positioned to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with their flagship offerings.
Murderbot’s Voice The Missing Core?
There’s a trade-off. The show’s broader appeal dilutes the existential solitude that defines Murderbot’s identity in the books. What was once a journey of internal emancipation is now filtered through more familiar tropes of rebellion, loyalty, and action—a format that works for screen but inevitably loses nuance.
Perhaps the biggest loss in this conversion is the singular voice of Murderbot. It’s a wry, uncomfortable, deeply human, and very alien voice in the novellas. We get to know the SecUnit not just by what it does but by what it thinks—and often doesn’t admit it feels.
This inner monologue was the beating heart of the story, building empathy and irony in equal shares. On screen, however, this voice is minimized. There are few interior narrations and silences are infrequent and more often than not broken by some form of visual shorthand or character exchange.
The Visual Triumph of Apple’s Adaptation
In terms of visuals, Murderbot wins. The set design is clinical and aged, functioning but scratched from use within a universe where technology is everywhere and hardly for the better. The SecUnits’ costume and prosthetic design straddle the uncanny valley beautifully, enabling actors to express nuanced robotic emotion through restraint.
The space station settings and corporate zones are accomplished with meticulous care, hinting at that cold bureaucratic menace always simmering in the background of the books. It’s a worn-in future, not a pristine one. The muted palettes and claustrophobically tight framing only serve to heighten the sense of solitude and pressure on our protagonist.
This, in a way, justifies the strong visuals but drastic narrative shift from its literary source. Even if the story does not strictly adhere to what is written in the novel, the mood—its coldness, its silences, and sudden outbursts of hazard—sings in tune with the spirit of Wells’ universe.
Great TV, Divided Fans
Reception has, of course, been somewhat divisive. Non-bookish general viewers usually brand the show as a “cerebral thriller with heart” when asked to sum it up. Sci-fi reviewers love the themes of corporate control, AI ethics, and identity. Novella diehards remain reserved, if not outright disappointed. “So the structure but not the soul has been caught,” say those in defense.
It’s not a new dichotomy in adaptation history. From The Shining to The Witcher, filmmakers and showrunners have been wrestling with the expectations of faithful storytelling against those of visual narrative. In this sense, Murderbot is a part of a lineage of adaptations that would reinvent the original rather than duplicate it.
Ultimately
Apple TV Plus’ Murderbot is a reminder that great television and faithful adaptation are not always the same thing. A show can excel — critically, visually, emotionally — even as it departs from its source. What counts is intention, execution, and resonance.
For some, the show’s a dynamic entry into a compelling world of android autonomy. For others, it’s a streamlined mirror that omits the self-loathing, soap-opera-loving, armor-plated soul at the series’ core.
