What It Sounds Like

The Leading Ladies, courtesy Netflix

The KPop Drop

About a month ago, on PBS Newshour, Mike Sargent, of Black Film Critics Circle, recommended the animated film KPop Demon Hunters saying “It blends K-pop, girl energy and demon-slaying. And it’s got a really fun soundtrack." You can find the PBS segment here. 

Was that his best pitch? His recommendation of 28 Years Later was more my speed, but I haven't watched it probably because, after a decade or two of zombie apocalypse as allegory for our political and social issues, I've had enough. I did, however, recently choose to watch K-Pop Demon Hunters  —once, in full, and again to scroll through to the musical segments, and then once more when I forced my wife to watch it (she suffered it). In between, I began to think about why this animated movie has become so compelling to so many people, some of which I lay out, below. 

Not only have several songs from the soundtrack reached the top of music charts, the animated feature has become the number two most watched movie, of all time, on Netflix, and may become number one soon [UPDATE: It has become number one]. This accomplishment, alone, is enough to ask why it is such a phenomenon. One reason, as the film so neatly illustrates in many scenes of young fans (fandom) entranced by both Huntr/x and Saja Boys, is as simple as tweens and teens —this was made for them. The music is the other part —it's catchy, contemporary pop with lyrics specific to the narrative, yet generalized enough that anybody can relate. 

In 2023, my friends' 20 year old daughter, Lily, suggested that I should give K-pop a tray, that it will hook me —way more than any K-drama I've watched (and I've watched a lot). But I didn't seek it out. All I thought about the K-Pop industry was that it had absorbed, processed and rehashed many western popular music styles and motifs of the last 40 years to create idol machine boy bands, like BTS and girl bands, like Blackpink, and then turned it up to eleven. It's entertainment designed to addict (mostly) young people with narrative drama, beauty, fashion, choreography, dance-inducing beats and catchy musical hooks. I may have even cynically compared the world of K-Pop to the manufactured theater of World Wrestling Entertainment (formerly WWF).

K-Pop Demon Hunters, however, was a charming, occasionally humorous, fast moving journey that cleverly adapted stylistic flourishes from film, television, anime and music video, something we consciously or unconsciously recognize as it flies by on the screen, mixed with a big enough dose of Korean culture to make you ask, "Is this a US or Korean production?" Answer: it's American, but the story idea and co-director is Korean born Canadian Maggie Kang with plenty of Korean talent pitching in.

Its focus on sense of purpose, unity, and creativity contrasted with the hollow, manipulative and toxic vanity of the boy band. While the women band Huntr/x (contemporary play on huntress) might be fighting supernatural demons, the movie suggests that, in our world, demons may really be an army of abs-forward "bros." The movie's core message is self-acceptance, honesty, and the power of sticking together, but I began to wonder whether K-Pop Demon Hunters functions as a reprieve from the rotten, cynical direction we have seen in this country and across the globe. It's possible —culture is a soft power that can often provide what politics cannot (this is why culture is under attack) and populist culture is influence scaled up, up, up, as the song goes.

Contextual Sidetrack 

If you are a fan of K-Drama, or even some of Korean films, like Parasite or Snowpiercer, you are familiar with Korean culture's class consciousness and deep distrust of those in political and corporate power. Consider that, just this year, the president of South Korea, Yoon Suk Yeol, was removed from office after the Constitutional Court voted unanimously to uphold his impeachment, following his failed attempt to impose martial law. This is a population immediately impatient with authoritarian impulses in part because of a persistent cultural memory of fairly recent authoritarian dictatorship, military rule, and hardship. But don't misunderstand, the same political tricks are being used by Korea's extreme right as are being used in the United States and the world over, the tactics just haven't worked quite as successfully as they have here, or elsewhere.  

Music 

Much has been written about the music in K-Pop Demon Hunters. Yes, every song is good, none of it is filler. These songs carry the entire movie, hitting it hard right out of the gate with How It's Done layered with music video visuals, attitude and humor. The sound, its production and emotional impact, is elevated well beyond what I would expect in an animated film. I'm not well-versed in music, so don't take my word for it. Listen to this vocal coach or that vocal coach analyze songs and vocals from the Demon Hunter soundtrack. 

Christian Elements

I like to compare K-Pop Demon Hunters to the 1999 hit The Matrix. It was an action movie with influential production design, fashion, score/soundtrack and CGI. Those slow-mo battle scenes in Demon Hunter have influences in visual effects first seen in The Matrix (and wire-fu). The film also blatantly referenced biblical religion —"The One" (aka savior) in Neo, there was a Judas figure, even the ship was named Nebuchadnezzar and a lead character, Trinity. The film's slick styling repackaged a handful of Judeo-Christian notions, providing audiences a familiar framework for absorbing the narrative, but ultimately there was no spiritual there, there. Given its timing at the apex of first wave Internet, it's no surprise that our cultural memory of The Matrix is glued to red pill/blue pill, conspiracy and the nature of reality in the information age. 

K-Pop Demon Hunters also relies on common religious, some might say spiritual, concepts, but does so with broad strokes. One of the clearest examples is character Gwi ma's fiery appearance and soul-sucking purpose which clearly represents what the West understands as the devil. Gwi ma (voiced by actor Lee Byung-hun of Squid Game, but more important, Mr. Sunshine and Iris, fame) happens to be a reversal of the Korean magwi, I think it is written 마귀, which can be translated as "devil." However, Gwi ma's wall of fire is generic and abstract enough that the audience never dwells on its Christian devilishness.

Jinu, the Jeoseung Saja in a Gat. Courtesy of Netflix

For those new to Korean entertainment, a boy band with tall black hats, beads and dark "cloaks" might seem like a contemporary fashion choice, but any fan of KDrama historical series recognizes the semi-transparent, head gear as a gat (said kind of like gaht, without a hard t sound). The look is a visual reference to the Jeoseung Saja, the messenger/undertaker from the world of the dead. So Gwi ma is the lord of the underworld and consumer of souls and The Saja Boys are messengers. What better way to deliver the message than through the sugary "Soda Pop," a song whose carbonated lyrics easily shift between desire for a girl and the consumption of souls. 

We also have the idea of the false idol —in Christianity, it's anything or anyone that becomes an object of ultimate devotion or trust, that is, instead of God. "Your Idol," the last song by the Saja Boys lays it all out in its lyrics:  I can be the star you rely on; Don’t you know I’m here to save you; I’m all you need, I’ma be your idol; Your obsession feeds our connection...give me all your attention. Really, just the whole song. What is creepy is how many of the lyrics can be subtly changed to mimic the words coming out of the mouth of this country's current political idol.

Contextual Sidetrack:

In South Korea, roughly 30% of the population identifies as Christian, from which over 10% identify as Catholic. Over fifty percent identify with no religion, but methods of data collection may conceal various beliefs and practices like Buddhism, shamanism, and agnosticism among a large part of the population.

Spiritual Elements

The lead character's name, Rumi, has linguistic roots in Japan (the past colonial occupier of Korea), so it seems an unlikely choice. However, the mystical overtones of the movie tells me that her name refers to another well-known Rumi, aka Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmi, the Persian mystic poet. Is it a stretch to tie the Honmoon, a spiritual barrier created through music, to the poet's belief that music, poetry (lyrics) and dance can lead to the divine? 

Rumi, the lead singer of Huntr/x, is only one part of a triad, the three figure principle found in too-many-to-list spiritual and supernatural conceptualizations across the ages. Conveniently, a triad of singers with different vocal ranges can also create powerful musical harmonies. The best example is the song "What it Sounds Like," which brings Rumi, Mira, and Zoey (the triad) physically and harmonically together toward their triumphal establishment of the Honmoon. It is this musical finale, particularly its powerful harmonies, that brings deliverance —something that could only be wished for in the earlier song "Free."

Unwittingly, Rumi, Mira and Zoey produced a new kind of Honmoon, one that we might describe as enlightened. This new Honmoon recognizes that shame and concealment can be a tool of control and a destructive force to individuals and ultimately, humanity. Where Rumi's shame had been imposed on her, for simply being who she is, Jinu felt shame for his actions. Although she made the argument, earlier on, that he is more than his "sins," the new Honmoon didn't seem to have any room for grace nor did he for self-forgiveness. There was no saving him, so Jinu sacrificed himself to free Rumi, and ultimately humanity, from their collective shame. Imperfect as the comparison may be, his sacrifice may be the most Christian element of K-Pop Demon Hunters. 

The masculine characters of KPop Demon Hunters, from Gwi Ma to The Saja Boys, appear to rely on Christian concepts, while the pan-spiritual concepts are delivered through the feminine characters. Whether or not audiences absorb and internalize these concepts is not within my purview. I can imagine, at least, that in a time of political idolatry, when religion is used cynically by right wing politicians and media in lockstep, and mainsteam clergy are quiet, that relatable characters finding purpose underpinned by generalized spiritual values, just might provide needed support for what battles lie ahead. 

Addendum (8/23/25) 

Is the current running through KPop Demon Hunter's storyline more tied to mental health than spiritual health? I won't argue that it isn't there —Rumi's story focuses largely on coming to terms with who she really is and the struggle to share that with those closest to her. I think, however, that this sharing is a kind of confessional. Not confessing up to power institutionalized in the Catholic Church, for instance, but the healing power inherent to the act of confession, something the script does speak to. Where closely holding your secrets (Rumi) or sins (Jinu) is a kind of hell, confession to individuals or communities is the beginning of freeing yourself (the song Free, again). 

For confession to be a freeing act, however, it requires the receiving party to be capable of seeing humans as flawed beings. They must also be willing to offer grace where they are not capable of forgiveness. Where there is confession, but no grace, a person's hell will only continue, compounded further by judgement. It is the forgiveness offered by Zoey and Mira, once they hear Rumi's truth, in song, that allows the three to come together to sing harmoniously and create the new Honmoon. 

Addendum (9/14/2025) 

I began to wonder whether the aforementioned themes in KPop Demon Hunters are more deeply rooted in conservatism than I had considered. It isn't radical by any measure, but its soft-feminism, quasi spiritualism, and even the maternal-like care for the band's fans act, at least, as a counterpoint to the patriarchal, Christian punishment represented in Gwi Ma, Saja Boys and even the prejudice of Celine, Rumi's caregiver and former demon hunter.