At their best, fictional stories can galvanize real-world virtue through the universal appeal of truth, goodness, and beauty. Sometimes it just looks a little unexpected—like the animated popstars who made hope go viral this summer.
K-Pop Demon Hunters, as its expressive title indicates, follows a Korean girl group’s mission to fight soul-harvesting demons with “songs of courage and hope” (and some pretty fierce-looking swords). As the Hunters’ mentor Celine (Yunjin Kim/Lea Salonga) narrates, their “music ignites the soul and brings people together,” thus fortifying a supernatural shield called the Honmoon. Recognizing the power of music to influence souls, the demons decide to form a rival boy band, forcing the Hunters to fight harder than ever for the souls of their fans—and for their own.
Created and directed by Korean-Canadian writer Maggie Kang and co-directed by Chris Applehans, the animated musical is a celebration of Korean culture, from the ramen-centric opening scene to the animal sidekicks straight out of minhwa folk art. Within this vibrant landscape, the story explores the destructive capacity of shame, as well as the redemptive experience of being loved for who you truly are. By opening up about her vulnerabilities, wild-child vocalist Mira (May Hong/Audrey Nuna) learns that she is capable of being a part of a family, while eccentric rapper Zoey (Ji-young Yoo/Rei Ami) comes to see that what makes her weird is also what makes her wonderful. Meanwhile, lead singer Rumi (Arden Cho/Ejae) realizes that only the truth will set her free from her shameful past—and even Jinu (Ahn Hyo-seop/Andrew Choi), enslaved to the demon king Gwi-Ma for centuries, ultimately discovers the transformative power of forgiveness.
While incorporating elements of Korean mythology, the movie portrays the forces of good and evil in a way consistent with a Christian understanding. In the movie, demons prey on the guilt and shame of fallen human beings by suggesting discouraging thoughts and telling them lies about their identity—a real phenomenon once outlined by St. Ignatius of Loyola in his rules for discernment. Both onstage and off, the demon boy band members admit to their evil intentions to exploit their fans, culminating in a haunting number about the dangers of literal idolatry (“Your Idol”).
Just as in reality, the stakes of the conflict are high. Comic moments arise as the Hunters find themselves fighting the demons for likes on social media, ratings on television, and autograph requests at a joint meet-and-greet, but the missing-persons posters in the background underscore the battle’s serious consequences. Grieved at the number of souls they’ve watched disappear into the underworld, the trio constantly references their responsibility for guiding their fans away from the demons’ predatory influence. In one thoughtful conversation, the singers reflect on what we might call “media mindfulness,” asking themselves whether the messages their songs communicate are really in line with their values. This cautionary scene invites viewers to be on the lookout when it comes to their own media consumption, steering clear of those who “feed on” their attention rather than lifting them up.
Ironically, Netflix’s promotion for the movie led with the song that the protagonists nixed as overly hateful: the diss track “Takedown.” Both in the movie and in real life, it was the Hunters’ joyful ode to authenticity, “Golden,” that topped the charts. The ubiquitous hit reached #1 globally on Spotify and went viral on TikTok, where thousands of young people danced and sang a positive message across the world’s screens for months on end. The popularity of the movie itself, which quickly became the most-watched Netflix title in history and released a sing-along version in theaters by popular demand, established K-Pop Demon Hunters as a true phenomenon.
Both within the world of the movie and in the real-life culture it is helping shape, K-Pop Demon Hunters offers an example of how to use the media to conquer darkness with light.