Dead End: Paranormal Park Is The Kind Of Family Show Netflix Should Embrace

Streaming platforms are still a contentious subject for creatives in the entertainment industry and audiences alike, but one benefit is undeniable — the accessibility of a streaming library allows people to discover shows and movies they may have missed out on when they first debuted. It used to be that people would discover their new favorite after browsing video store shelves, catching a stray rerun on cable, or having an older cousin introduce them to something cool from before their time. If you were lucky enough to come of age with the internet, forum discussions, lists published on your favorite online publication (like /Film!), or the omnipotent Tumblr gifset were methods of cultural sharing that allowed strangers to connect with one another over a shared love of film and television.

Now, the almighty streaming platform algorithm has done all the legwork, and audiences are frequently injecting new life into movies that initially flopped upon release or kickstarting a new obsession with TV shows that went off the air years ago. Recently, the Netflix animated fantasy horror series "Dead End: Paranormal Park," which was canceled two years ago, has been rediscovered by some people whose only knowledge of the show is some out-of-context clips. The supernatural series centers on Barney (Zach Barack) and Norma (Kody Kavitha), two teenagers who are hired to work at Phoenix Parks, a haunted Dollywood-esque theme park created by the famous Pauline Phoenix (Coco Peru). They're joined by Barney's childhood pup Puglsey (Alex Brightman) and Courtney (Emily Osment), the park's resident 1,000-year-old demon. It evokes the family-friendly scares of shows like "Courage the Cowardly Dog," "The Adventures of Billy & Mandy," "Scooby-Doo," and "Gravity Falls," but with the heart of shows like "Steven Universe" and my beloved favorite, "Craig of the Creek."

Well, having actually seen "Dead End: Paranormal Park," I can confidently say that this is exactly the kind of family show that Netflix should embrace, as well as the type of original series that makes streaming services worth having.

"Dead End: Paranormal Park" boasts some seriously dazzling animation, with charming characters presented in vibrant colors and rounded shapes like Steele's graphic novel come to life. Even with haunted mascots, demonic game shows, and a musical episode, the series transports viewers to a fantastical place, but with relatable messages about learning to understand yourself. Just as bold is the defiant joy at the center of the story, as the cast is incredibly diverse and better reflects the world at large. Barney is a Jewish, gay, fat, transgender teenager, while Norma is Pakistani-American, autistic, and bisexual. Nothing about their identities is presented as a plot twist or surprise reveal; it's simply the reality of who they are. There are also characters like the extroverted and optimistic Badyah Hassan (Kathreen Khavari), who wears a hijab, and Barney's crush, Logan "Logs" Nguyen, who often uses puns to diffuse awkward tension.

The show isn't about their marginalized identities, but it also doesn't pretend that their identities have no impact on the way they navigate life. In today's day and age, this shouldn't be revolutionary, but in a world where anti-LGBTQIA+ rhetoric is gaining terrifying ground, especially the kind targeting trans youth, it is. "Dead End: Paranormal Park" lets Barney be a teenager first: awkward, hopeful, and unsure of himself as he navigates crushes, friendship, and finding where he belongs. When Barney first tells Norma he's trans, it's presented matter-of-factly. He explains that this haunted theme park, of all places, is where he's finally felt safe enough to just be — to embrace on his own terms when and how to share who he is, because the people in his life aren't always as affirming.

Every queer person understands the profound significance of owning their identity and the unmatched euphoria that comes with living authentically, completely on their your terms. Seeing Barney, a trans teen, express this in an animated series is especially meaningful — mainstream animation seldom explores characters like this with such depth and care, although we've seen great progress with shows like "The Great North" and "The Owl House," as well as movies like "Nimona," just to name a few.

It's a shame that "Dead End: Paranormal Park" was only around for two seasons, because despite being set against the backdrop of supernatural scares and otherworldly creepies, the core of the show is a coming-of-age story. Barney works to process his feelings about his family's inability to be fully affirming of his identity, and he has to find the confidence to stand up for himself instead of constantly bending over backward to avoid making anyone else feel uncomfortable. He's a kind, empathetic, and enthusiastic teenager, but he has to learn the value of prioritizing his own happiness.

Meanwhile, Norma is constantly learning how to step outside of her comfort zone, working on her social anxiety, and allowing herself to be a part of a community. As an autistic character, she sometimes gets overstimulated or can be a little blunt, but the show doesn't look down on her for processing the world differently. The show loves both of these characters exactly as they are, and it only wants what's best for them.

There's a strong message about found family and figuring out where you belong, even if it means befriending an ancient demon at a theme park. It's impossible to be the weirdest person at a park that features demons, witches, ghosts, night hags, and phantoms, which means any kid watching at home can see that they're not "weird" for being themselves, either. And for parents, older siblings, or anyone else who may be watching, seeing Barney and Norma struggle is a way to remind adults that the young people in their lives need love, affirmation, compassion, and understanding.

"Dead End: Paranormal Park" is a quirky, fun time with a great sense of humor and a deep affinity for treating marginalized and misunderstood communities with love. If that's "propaganda," as some bad-faith loudmouths have accused it of being, it's a message worth taking to heart.