Haunted Hotel (2025)

Netflix's latest animated venture, "Haunted Hotel," arrives with considerable pedigree behind it—created by Matt Roller (a writer from "Rick and Morty") and executive produced by Dan Harmon himself. Yet despite its impressive creative lineage and promising premise, the series struggles to establish its own distinct identity in an increasingly crowded field of adult animated comedies.

The show follows Katherine Freeling (voiced by Eliza Coupe), a recently divorced single mother who inherits the supernatural Undervale Hotel from her deceased brother Nathan (Will Forte). Moving in with her two children—awkward 13-year-old Ben (Skyler Gisondo) and manipulative preteen Esther (Natalie Palamides)—Katherine must navigate both the challenges of single parenthood and managing a hotel populated by demanding ghostly residents who will never check out.

The premise holds genuine promise. The concept of inherited responsibility combined with supernatural chaos offers rich comedic and dramatic possibilities. The idea of a struggling family finding purpose (and perhaps healing) through caring for the restless dead could have provided meaningful emotional depth alongside the laughs.

The voice cast delivers competent performances throughout. Eliza Coupe brings a believable weariness to Katherine, capturing the exhaustion of a woman juggling impossible circumstances. Will Forte, even as a ghost, maintains his characteristic manic energy that serves the show's comedic moments well. The child characters, voiced by Gisondo and Palamides, avoid the typical trap of being merely annoying, instead feeling like actual kids with distinct personalities.

Visually, the show benefits from Titmouse's animation prowess. The Undervale Hotel itself becomes a character, with its labyrinthine corridors and shifting supernatural architecture providing both atmospheric dread and comedic staging opportunities. The character designs strike an appropriate balance between approachable and slightly unsettling, fitting the horror-comedy tone.

However, "Haunted Hotel" suffers from an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Every supernatural gag feels borrowed from "The Simpsons'" Treehouse of Horror segments, every family dynamic echoes "Bob's Burgers," and every surreal twist recalls its creators' work on "Rick and Morty." Rather than synthesizing these influences into something new, the show feels like a collection of familiar beats performed competently but without inspiration.

The horror-comedy balance, which should be the show's strongest asset, never quite finds its footing. The scares are too mild to generate genuine tension, while the comedy often lacks the sharp edge that made Harmon's previous work memorable. The result is a show that's pleasant enough but forgettable—a significant disappointment given the talent involved.

The family dynamics, while serviceable, remain frustratingly shallow. Katherine's grief over her brother's death and her struggles with single parenthood are mentioned but never deeply explored. The children feel more like comedic devices than fully realized characters dealing with loss, upheaval, and living in a genuinely supernatural environment.

Most disappointingly, the relationship between Katherine and her ghost brother Nathan—which should form the emotional core of the series—lacks the complexity and depth it deserves. Their interactions often feel more like comedic banter between strangers than the complicated grief and reconciliation between estranged siblings.

"Haunted Hotel" had the potential to explore themes of family, loss, responsibility, and finding home in unexpected places. The supernatural setting could have served as a metaphor for the way the past haunts us, or how we learn to live with those we've lost. Instead, the show settles for surface-level hijinks that rarely dig deeper than their immediate comedic value.

The various ghost residents of the hotel, rather than being opportunities for social commentary or emotional exploration, remain largely one-note gag characters. This feels like a particularly wasted opportunity in an era where shows like "What We Do in the Shadows" have demonstrated how supernatural comedy can maintain both laughs and character development.

"Haunted Hotel" is not a bad show—it's competently made, occasionally amusing, and benefits from strong voice acting and solid animation. But in a landscape where animated comedies are expected to push boundaries and offer unique perspectives, competence isn't enough. The show feels safe, familiar, and ultimately disposable.

For viewers seeking easy, undemanding entertainment, "Haunted Hotel" will suffice. But for those hoping that the creative team behind some of animation's most innovative work would deliver something equally groundbreaking, the show represents a missed opportunity. It's a perfectly adequate haunted house that happens to lack any real ghosts of its own.

Rating: 6/10 - Watchable but forgettable, "Haunted Hotel" is a competent but uninspired entry in Netflix's animated catalog that fails to live up to its creative pedigree.