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Netflix’s new animated series Haunted Hotel, launched on September 19, 2025, arrives with high expectations thanks to the pedigree of its creators. With Matt Roller, a writer on Rick and Morty and Krapopolis, at the helm, and Dan Harmon producing, the show promises sharp humor and offbeat storytelling. But does it deliver?
A haunted hotel full of ghosts, family drama… and punchlines
The premise unfolds in the Undervale, a once-grand hotel now overrun by ghosts. At the heart of it all is Katherine (voiced by Eliza Coupe), an overwhelmed single mother who inherits the hotel under reluctant circumstances. Her late brother Nathan (Will Forte) is just one of the many spirits she contends with, alongside raising her two kids: sardonic teenager Ben (Skyler Gisondo) and precocious Esther (Natalie Palamides).
Add to that Abaddon (Jimmi Simpson), a demon cursed to live in the body of an Enlightenment-era boy, and you’ve got a classic ensemble of oddballs crammed into one location. The dynamic between these characters does carry much of the show’s charm, even when the writing doesn’t always follow through with punch.
That said, Katherine’s reluctant ownership is a compelling setup. You get the tension of responsibility mixed with supernatural chaos, and Coupe gives the character real personality—dry, exhausted, emotionally distant at times, but never dull. To read Pluribus finale shocks fans as season 2 faces long wait
Familiar ground, for better or worse
From the jump, Haunted Hotel feels like a cousin to CBS’ Ghosts, albeit in animated form with a slightly sharper edge. The visual style doesn’t reinvent much—flat backgrounds, clean character designs, and a muted color palette that feels comfortable rather than daring. Animation that does the job, essentially, but rarely startles or delights.
The humor treads familiar ground: sarcastic banter, absurdity at every corner, and occasional emotional reflections interrupted by gags. At times, the tone leans into something darker or more ambitious—some episodes even flirt with poignant themes, like grief and the weight of parental absence—but it doesn’t always stick.
For fans of Matt Roller and the Dan Harmon circle, there’s a fingerprint here in the rhythm of the dialogue and the chaotic-but-not-really worldbuilding. But it also lacks a real sense of identity—there’s fun to be had, but not much to hold on to by the end of each episode.
Stories that lean on the bizarre
If there’s one thing Haunted Hotel does well, it’s embracing the bizarre with confidence. Over the first season, we get a wide range of supernatural plotlines. Some hit better than others, but the variety is clear:
- Katherine is unwillingly seduced by the honeymoon suite itself (a ghost with velvet drapes and an ego).
- Ben starts dating a ghost teenager (played wonderfully by Riki Lindhome) he has no idea how to emotionally connect with.
- Esther tries to DIY a zombie dad out of leftover spectral parts.
- Abaddon, torn between his demonic origins and an unexpectedly touching arc as a chaotic uncle figure, gets one of the show’s strongest moments.
There’s also a late-season time-travel episode that finally finds deeper resonance. It connects character backstories with real emotional weight and shows what the series could be if it dared more often to blend the weird with the heartfelt. To read Taylor Swift opens up in final Eras Tour docuseries episode
Voice cast keeps it afloat
One of Haunted Hotel’s undeniable strengths is its cast. Eliza Coupe carries the heart of the show, balancing bitterness with warmth in just the right doses. Will Forte’s Nathan is a little insufferable at times, but that’s the point, and Forte nails the self-involved ghost brother vibe. Jimmi Simpson, as Abaddon, is so strange and theatrical that you can’t help but enjoy every scene he’s in.
Guest stars like Kumail Nanjiani, Jenifer Lewis, and Randall Park add texture, even when their characters are more fun cameos than essential additions.
As a viewer, you get the sense that the cast is having fun here. At its best, that sense of fun is contagious—even if the writing doesn’t always back it up with sharpness or staying power.
Room for improvement with a second season
Haunted Hotel isn’t a misfire, but it’s not yet fully realized either. There’s spooky potential here, particularly if the show leans harder into the weird and emotional instead of playing it safe with predictable sitcom beats.
Personally, I wanted to love it more. I laughed a few times, felt something once or twice, but kept waiting for that one episode that would truly surprise me. Maybe that feeling will come with season two—if Netflix gives it the green light.
In the meantime, it’s good company for fans of quirky animated series, especially those in the mood for a light supernatural escape that doesn’t ask too much, but offers just enough oddball energy to justify checking in.
