Haunted Hotel is the kind of show that arrives with a shrug and never really straightens its posture. It’s another adult animated comedy with ghosts, demons, and family dysfunction—but what it lacks is the one thing this genre demands: a pulse. Despite its supernatural setting, this series is dead on arrival.
The premise isn’t the problem. A haunted hotel filled with eccentric spirits and run by a living-dead family unit could’ve been a riotous playground. There’s space here for biting satire, surreal world-building, even emotional depth. Instead, Haunted Hotel chooses the path of least resistance: passable jokes, recycled character types, and storytelling that feels allergic to risk.
You can almost hear the writers’ room groaning under the weight of comparisons. Ghosts that feel like leftovers from Ghosts. A demon-child who’s basically Stewie Griffin in period costume. A dead uncle who plays dad. A darkly precocious little sister because, of course. It’s not so much a cast as a collage of sitcom archetypes with unfinished punchlines.
There are occasional glimmers of wit—one-liners that spark a brief smirk—but the laughter never lingers. You’re constantly reminded of shows that do this better. The emotional nihilism of BoJack Horseman, the chaotic inventiveness of Rick and Morty, and the acidic satire of early Simpsons. Haunted Hotel wants to stand in that company, but it doesn’t seem to know how.
Even visually, it misses the opportunity to let loose. With an open canvas of ghosts, monsters, and demonic mayhem, it delivers… a mildly quirky hotel lobby and some floating furniture. The jokes feel like they were left in the microwave too long—lukewarm and rubbery.
By episode four, you’re no longer watching. You’re just enduring. You let it play in the background like white noise. That’s the worst fate for comedy—not to offend or fail spectacularly, but to pass unnoticed.
2/5 stars. One for the voice cast. One for potential. And then a long silence.
