Writer Joe Hill and illustrator Gabriel Rodriguez’s bestselling comic series Locke & Key hit the ground running from its opening pages and never let up over six volumes of terror. The Locke family was put through the wringer in terms of horror and heartbreak, and the stunning art imbued the horror fantasy storyline with wonder. It’s no surprise that the award-winning series would receive an adaptation, but what was surprising was just how long it took. One announced film trilogy that fizzled, and two failed pilots for Hulu and Fox later, Netflix finally delivers with a 10-episode inaugural season. If you’re a longtime fan of the comics, though, it’s best to adjust your expectations right now; Netflix’s Locke & Key is a whimsical beast with a wider audience in mind.

After Rendell Locke’s murder, his wife and three children move across the country and into their ancestral New England home, Keyhouse. Tyler (Connor Jessup) and Kinsey (Emilia Jones) attempt to carve out new lives and friends for themselves at their new high school, while youngest sibling Bode (It and The Prodigy’s Jackson Robert Scott) finds himself enamored with the sprawling Keyhouse estate. Their mother, Nina (Darby Stanchfield), struggles to keep everything together after their devastating loss. However, she has at least a little help from Rendell’s brother Duncan (Aaron Ashmore) before he heads home to the Boston area. Before the family can settle in, Bode discovers that Keyhouse is full of hidden magical keys, each with unique powers. He also discovers that there’s an evil presence lurking in the estate’s well house that will stop at nothing to retrieve those keys for itself. As he brings his siblings into the fold, they discover that these keys might be connected to their father’s past.

Fans of the comic series will notice straight away that much of the violence and horror is toned down for a more family-friendly affair. The inciting event is mostly off-screen, and the surviving family members seem far too well adjusted by comparison. Bode is too young to grasp the situation, and Scott plays him with hyper mania. Tyler and Kinsey, at the other end of the spectrum, seem asleep at the wheel. The teens quickly fall into high school life, which comes with its own drama, and very rarely is it engaging. Neither is the central villain, the demonic Dodge (Layla De Oliveira). Of the 10-episode season, the front half is a slog dedicated to world-building and character setup. Milquetoast heroes that are forbidden from being as flawed or as messy as they should be in the wake of extreme loss, and a demonic antagonist devoid of genuine menace. Only Sherri Saum as the mysterious Ellie Whedon comes across as a fully realized character behaving with appropriate feelings and reactions.

The slow narrative is constructed not just as a means of getting viewers acclimated to the whimsical rules of the keys, but because the season only covers a small fraction of the comics. They’ve got a lot of filler to inject. Luckily, the production value is exceptional, as is the attention to detail and the unique magic of this universe. Think a smaller scaled coming-of-age fantasy in the vein of Harry Potter.

Once the introductions are out of the way, the story finally gets to stretch its legs in the latter half of the season. Dodge finally finds her fangs, the stakes feel daunting and revealed backstory gives an emotional complexity that was lacking in the front half. Showrunners Carlton Cuse (Lost, The Strain) and Meredith Averill (The Haunting of Hill House) honor the essence of the comics while reconfiguring the story for a wholly different medium, for better and worse. It’s in the final episodes that they use Hill’s intricate mythology as a starting point to open up new, intriguing story possibilities. The precise nature of which makes you curious to see where season two will go.

As a whole, the inaugural season of Locke & Key feels best served for viewers unfamiliar with the source material, though many plot beats do adhere closely to the comics. Early episodes pay their respects to horror and fans in a surprising way, but the overall tone of the show feels more family-friendly fantasy than Lovecraftian horror. Many of the lead actors feel serviceable at best, without the emotional depth or experience to give us rooting interest during the slower introductory episodes. Still, as the narrative speeds up, they eventually find their stride. The real MVP, of course, is the production design, which gives not just Keyhouse but the entire New England setting an authentic quality that makes this world feel all the more tangible.

There are enough nods, plot points, and Easter eggs that pay respects to the comics, but Cuse and Averill aim to entice a wider audience with a series geared toward family binge viewing on Netflix. It likely won’t appease the diehard genre fans, but it does offer a solid entry point for the budding fan. One that hints at growing darker and more Lovecraftian as the series progresses. Locke & Key is a bit sluggish to start, but it’s at least headed in the right direction.

Locke & Key arrives on Netflix on February 7, 2020.