In interviews, I’m frequently asked if I can identify a grand theme running through my work. The truth is, I rarely think about whether a particular project fits within said theme when I’m in the middle of it. But just because I don’t consciously ponder it doesn’t mean that it isn’t percolating beneath the surface. And it’s only afterwards, when viewed through a more distant lens, that those subconscious themes become more obvious to me.
Let’s start with why I’m drawn to these big, ambitious genre projects. On a surface level, I believe science-fiction and fantasy work best when they function as mirrors reflecting back on our present condition. Dig deeper and I would tell you that I’m most interested in stories that ask what it means to be human—even when the main characters aren’t strictly human at all. That’s the theme that unites my work on “Foundation,” “Murderbot,” and “The Sandman.” Each of these series, in its own way, explores identity, self-awareness, and the search for purpose.
Take “Foundation.” On its face, it’s a story about the collapse and rebirth of an empire, but what really hooked me was the emotional core: how do individuals find meaning in a universe that seems to be governed by mathematics and fate? Hari Seldon, Gaal Dornick, Demerzel, and the Cleons are all wrestling with their own agency in a galaxy where history is supposed to be predictable. I wanted to root the story in their inner lives, their relationships, and their struggles to make sense of their place in something so much bigger than themselves. That’s what makes the series feel relatable, even when it’s set thousands of years in the future.
“Murderbot” pushes that idea even further. Here, the protagonist is a cyborg who’s part machine, part human, and all attitude. Murderbot’s journey is about breaking free from its programming and figuring out who it wants to be (one that is mirrored in “Foundation’s” own humaniform robot, Demerzel). I loved how Martha Wells wrote Murderbot as someone who’s constantly questioning its own humanity, even as it tries to protect the annoying space hippies it grudgingly cares about. That love was shared by showrunners Paul and Chris Weitz — and it’s why I felt they would be the perfect stewards for Martha’s creation.
Then there’s “The Sandman,” where the protagonist is literally the personification of dreams. Dream is an immortal being who’s lived for eons, but the series is really about his emotional growth. He starts out distant and aloof, but over time, he learns what it means to feel loss, love, and vulnerability. Working with showrunner Allan Heinberg, I wanted to make sure that Dream’s journey felt as grounded and human as possible, even though he’s a cosmic entity. That’s the challenge—and the joy—of adapting these kinds of stories: finding the emotional truth at the heart of the fantastical.
For me, the best science-fiction and fantasy is always about flawed characters. I’m not interested in stories where the heroes are perfect and the villains are pure evil. I want to explore the gray areas, where everyone is capable of both good and bad. In “Foundation,” the Cleons are cloned rulers who do terrible things, but they’re also complex individuals with their own fears and desires to break free of their genetic programming. In “Murderbot,” the protagonist is sometimes violent and reluctant, but it’s also deeply loyal and caring. And in “The Sandman,” even the Endless—who are supposed to be above human concerns—are shaped by their relationships and their mistakes.
I also believe that these stories should reflect the world we live in. That means embracing the increasingly maligned concept of diversity, not just for the sake of it, but because it makes the stories richer and more authentic. In “Foundation,” we reimagined some of the characters to better represent the diversity of our audience. In “Murderbot,” we’re careful to capture the range of identities and experiences that make up the universe Martha Wells created (especially the neurodivergent ones). And in “The Sandman,” we’ve worked hard to make sure that the 37-year-old series feels fresh and relevant, while still honoring the original comics.
Finally, I love the high-wire act of world-building. Each of these series has its own unique setting—the vast galaxy of “Foundation,” the corporate dystopia of “Murderbot,” the mythic realms of “The Sandman”—and part of the fun is bringing those dizzying worlds to life. I want the audience to feel like they’re stepping into a fully realized universe, one that’s as complex and layered as our own. That’s why I prefer serialized storytelling—it gives us the space to explore the characters, the themes and the worlds in depth.
At the end of the day, what ties all of these projects together is a belief that science fiction and fantasy are at their best when they’re grounded in emotion and humanity. Whether it’s a mathematician trying to save civilization, a cyborg searching for freedom, or a god learning to feel, the most powerful stories are always about what it means to be alive. That’s what I’m always striving for—to create adaptations that are as intellectually stimulating as they are emotionally moving.
David S. Goyer has earned a reputation for telling character-driven stories adapted from the otherworldly realms of superheroes, fantasy and the supernatural. His breakout came in 1998 when he wrote the action hit “Blade” starring Wesley Snipes, based on the Marvel Comics vampire hunter. Since then, he’s solidified himself as a filmmaker who elevates genre-driven stories to the next level. Most recently, Goyer served as executive producer on the upcoming second season of the Netflix sci-fi series “The Sandman,” an EP on the recent Apple TV+ sci-fi “Murderbot,” and is also an EP and writer on the third season of the Apple TV+ hit series “Foundation.“
His past projects include the “Blade” trilogy, “Man of Steel” (2013), the Dark Knight trilogy, “Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice” (2016), “Call of Duty: Black Ops 1 & 2” (2010, 2012), “Foundation” (2021), “The Night House” (2020), “The First Omen” (2024), “The Invisible” (2007), and “The Unborn” (2009).
