‘Haunted Hotel’ (2025) Netflix Series Review - Where Ghosts Check in, Chaos Checks Out

I walked into Haunted Hotel expecting another haunted-house sitcom, but I came out amused, occasionally cringing, and mostly satisfied. There’s a lot to like, a few things that don’t quite land, but overall it’s a fun trip through the absurd and supernatural with a warm center.

The strongest thing about Haunted Hotel is its cast and characters. Katherine, voiced by Eliza Coupe, is grounded enough that when everything else is falling apart, monsters in the lobby, spectral complaints, demon tantrums, you still believe in her. She’s trying hard, she’s tired, but she cares. Nathan, her late brother turned ghost (Will Forte), is her emotional and logistical foil: he has ideas (often terrible ones), he floats (literally), and his struggle to do right even after death lends unexpected depth. The kids Ben, the awkward teen, and Esther, the small sister with outsized energy, add texture; their relationship and interactions deliver many of the show’s better jokes and moments. But the standout comedic gem is Abaddon (Jimmi Simpson), the demon from the 1700s stuck in a little boy’s body. His combination of ancient horror credentials and childish indignation is one of the sharpest edges in the series. Watching him chew out modern problems with archaic contempt is consistently funny.

Visually, Haunted Hotel leans toward clean, simple animation: vector-style character designs, outlined figures, moderate expressivity. It’s not going to win praise for radical art direction or lush, painterly visuals, and sometimes facial expressions feel constrained. But when things go wild, ghost chases, spectral havoc, demonic showdowns, the designers pull out lighting tricks, color contrasts, and camera angles that spice up the scenes. It's clear a lot of effort went into making the supernatural elements visually interesting, even if everyday moments feel more standard.

Story-wise, the show follows a mostly episodic structure: week-by-week plots of Katherine trying to date again, dealing with her kids’ social lives, or managing hotel crises, all thrown off by ghosts, demons, curses, and general otherworldly weirdness. It’s not trying to be a prestige serial; it isn’t deeply philosophical, though it flirts occasionally with grief (especially Nathan’s death and how the family handles it), neglect, and the weight of legacy. Those moments are brief, but they help the show avoid being just lol-ghost jokes.

On the comedic front, Haunted Hotel succeeds enough. There are plenty of lines that made me laugh out loud, and many more that I smiled at. The comedic timing, the absurdity of supernatural guest complaints (“Why is there a specter in the room?” “Yes, we know.”), And the contrast between Katherine’s enforced normality and the haunted chaos around her is a good source of humor. But there are times when the jokes feel like they’ve been lifted from sitcom templates set in spooky houses before; sometimes you can guess the twist early, or see the “monster of the week” beat coming a mile off. That predictability dulls several episodes. Also, character development is light. Katherine suffers (in funny ways) but doesn’t always grow; Nathan’s ghostly perspective is sometimes underused. Some episodes feel like filler; they exist more to pad the season than to deepen the story. For viewers who want strong arcs, emotional stakes, or surprises, Haunted Hotel is pleasant but not always satisfying.

Tone-wise, the series finds a workable middle ground. It isn’t horrifically scary (thankfully), nor mushily sentimental. It plays with horror tropes, demons, ghosts, haunted walls, but always keeps one foot in the absurd. The familial dynamics are believable without being corny. The conflict between “living world” expectations (school, dates, bills) and “haunted world” (spirits wanting amenities, demon mischief) is the engine of most episodes. That engine hums nicely more often than not.

Where Haunted Hotel stumbles is when it leans too hard on familiar formulas without twisting them; some episodes echo other supernatural sitcoms too clearly. The designs, as noted, sometimes lack distinctiveness: the characters are distinctive by voice more than by look. Also, balancing comedic vs horror moments doesn’t always succeed sometimes; horror beats are underplayed so much they feel perfunctory. Other times, jokes land awkwardly in the middle of what should be tension.

In terms of pacing, the show generally moves well. Ten episodes, each about 24-25 minutes, so the rhythm is brisk. A lot is going on in each episode: hotel management issues, ghostly chaos, family stuff, but because many plots reset to the status quo by the episode's end, some tension dissipates. I found myself wanting more payoffs: what happens after repeated ghost crises? How does Nathan’s own afterlife affect Katherine long-term? The seeds are there, but not always planted with care.

Despite its flaws, Haunted Hotel delivers more good than bad. It’s clever enough, funny enough, and weird enough to stand out among animated comedies this year. I’d recommend it to anyone who likes supernatural weirdness wrapped in family drama, who doesn’t mind predictability sometimes, and who prefers character interplay to shocking plot turns.
If I had to give a rating, I’d say Haunted Hotel is a solid “yes” not perfect, but enjoyable, and worth your time. It doesn’t reinvent the genre, but it does offer enough laughs, frights, and heart to make it a worthwhile check-in.

If you like shows that mix family quirks with ghosts, a show you don’t need scary nights to have fun, Haunted Hotel might become a guilty pleasure. If you’re chasing something that surprises, haunts you later, or changes you, you might find it more comfortable than profound, but comfort has its place.

Final Score- [7.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times