The pilot episode of Knights of Guinevere dropped on Sept. 19, and, honestly, I haven’t been this excited about an animated pilot in a while. Coming from Glitch Productions, the same Australian studio that took the internet by storm with The Amazing Digital Circus, this new series is a kickstart forward not just for the studio, but for indie animation as an emerging species of entertainment. A big part of that comes down to Dana Terrace, the creator of The Owl House, who teamed up with Glitch after her unceremonious fallout with Disney. With Terrace at the helm and Glitch fostering creative freedom, Knights of Guinevere feels both like a personal triumph and a collective one for anyone tired of the corporate monopoly on animated storytelling.
The story introduces us to Park Planet, home to a floating archipelago of an amusement park high in the sky. It’s a magical kingdom of dreams from smiley mascots, to a labyrinth of rides and even fairytale-like princesses — sound familiar? In place of Mickey, the Park is defined by an android princess named Guinevere, with thousands of versions of her entertaining the visitors. However, the audience soon discovers the dark side of the moon. Beneath the surface, literally, lies a worn industrial wasteland that fuels the park’s magic. Frankie, a scrap scavenger, stumbles upon a broken Guinevere android and, with the help of Andi, an engineer who works for the park, tries to repair her. This kicks off a journey that quickly hints at something much darker lurking under the glossy utopia. The pilot manages to set up this world and its key players while keeping enough mystery in reserve to leave you unsettled and eager for more.
Visually, the show is absolutely stunning. The animation quality rivals anything you’d expect from a big studio, but what makes it stand out is its use of color. In Park Planet’s “happiest place on Earth” façade, the palette glows with bright, surreal tones of royal purple and cobalt blue. The second the action shifts below the surface, those colors twist into muted, grimy hues that feel almost toxic. It’s an intentional, gut-level shift that reinforces the story’s contrast between shiny fantasy and harsh reality. I couldn’t help but notice how the art style echoes The Owl House, especially in the sharp, Luz-like eyes of Frankie, which felt like a loving callback to Terrace’s previous work. I also noticed that the princess’ hair wraps into two distinct buns just as bulbous as Mickey Mouse’s ears.
Part of what makes the pilot resonate so much is the context behind it. Terrace’s history with Disney is no secret. The Owl House was earthshaking for LGBTQ+ representation, and it ended far too soon thanks to Disney’s discomfort with stories that didn’t fit their rigid mold. Watching Terrace pivot to an indie studio like Glitch, one that has built its reputation on creative risks and viral hits, is so incredibly satisfying. Knights of Guinevere is, in many ways, a symbolic rebuttal against the corporate meddling that killed The Owl House. This isn’t just Terrace continuing her work, it’s her proving that she can thrive without Disney’s approval and doing it in a space that actively celebrates artistic freedom.
That corporate critique isn’t just in the production history; it’s encoded right into the show’s DNA. Park Planet may look like a fantasyland, but it’s powered by cobalt mining, exploitative labor and the relentless hunger of capitalist obsession. For anyone who’s ever side-eyed Disney’s carefully cultivated image as the arbiter of magic and joy, this feels like deliberate commentary. The theme park setting is a mirror held up to the darker realities behind the empire Terrace once worked for.
In terms of pacing and character work, I’d argue this is Glitch’s strongest pilot to date. The Amazing Digital Circus may have blown up with hundreds of millions of views, but it leaned heavily on chaos and spectacle to make its mark. Knights of Guinevere takes a different approach. The pilot is measured, confident and focused on grounding us in the characters of Frankie and Andi. It never feels rushed, and yet it maintains a mysterious, almost haunting atmosphere. That patience pays off. The protagonists already feel layered, and their dynamic has the potential to carry the series forward in compelling ways.
Knights of Guinevere is off to a gorgeous start. It has something controversial but necessary to inject into the discussion and proves that indie animation isn’t just competing with the big players but surpassing them. Terrace and the Glitch team have crafted a pilot that feels personal, political and beautifully unsettling all at once. If this is only the beginning, then we’re in for something special. This is the most exciting and promising new animated project of the year, and recommending it is like getting to flip the middle finger right in the Disney corporation’s face.
Marc Staiano is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be reached at mcs382@cornell.edu.
