REVIEW: “KPop Demon Hunters” (2025)

(Source: IMDb) 

Last spring, Ryan Coogler released his most original and ambitious film to date with the period vampire horror epic, Sinners. It was a daring and challenging combination of dynamic, powerful music/songs and supernatural elements. It was also a very bloody, hard-R story. Two months later, Netflix and Sony Pictures Animation released their own original and ambitious feature that equally emphasized the power of music against supernatural forces. Only this one was much more stylized. And PG-rated. But while Coogler’s film had more to do with retribution, I found KPop Demon Hunters to be a surprisingly resonant story. It's easy to see why it became such a fan-made phenomenon—and not just because of its cool and colorful aesthetic and vibe. 

The plot combines Korean folklore and mythology with the country’s contemporary pop music scene, which sounds daring enough. Its titular trio consists of music artists who have secret lives as demon slayers, with their latest target being a demon boy band who plot to steal the souls of their fans. Right off the hook, the group known as Huntrix—consisting of lead singer Rumi, sardonic choreographer Mira, and bubbly lyricist Zoey—is full of strength, quirks, and vulnerability. And boy, can these girls sing! Within the first ten minutes, I was hooked. And the story kept me engaged throughout, even as it reveals that Rumi hides a dark and complicated secret—one apparently not of her own doing. 

In a year where animation continued to break new ground, whether through sequels in Disney's long-awaited Zootopia or China's record-breaking Ne Zha franchises (the latter of which I have yet to see, as of this writing), KPop Demon Hunters was one of 2025’s biggest surprises. Building on the distinct style first introduced in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, KPop is a great example of how to translate animé into CGI form; the specific frame rate maintains a comic book, hand-drawn aspect. I think the film also helped its music genre become more mainstream in cinema. Speaking of which, there's no denying that the soundtrack is catchy and energetic. Specific songs that stand out to me include the head-banging "How It’s Done” (now here’s how you open a movie!), the Oscar-nominated "Golden" (a defining anthem), and one climactic track (powerful and empowering). This may be the most infectious album I’ve heard for a film (animated or live-action) since Disney's Encanto. 

Directors Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans were reportedly influenced by the films of Bong Joon-Ho. And it shows in the story's blend of genres, which creatively, effectively and uniquely balances action, comedy, drama, and, of course, music. It equally works as a behind-the-scenes view of the creative process (i.e., songwriting, dance choreography), like a series of music videos within the film. Again, I thought I knew where the narrative was going. But it subverted my expectations. (For instance, the placement of the song “Golden” was not what I predicted, while “Takedown” takes some unexpected turns.) 

As far as the film's content and age-appropriateness goes (particularly in its spirituality category), just as many people have criticized this film as those who have celebrated it. (At least, that’s what I’ve heard.) To be fair, its central demons have more to do with Korean mythology than with those described in the Bible. And yet, many families have been up in arms about letting their young children see this spiritually-complicated story. This is one of the reasons that the PG-rating (and especially its dark content) shouldn’t be taken lightly. On the other hand, like many secular movies, there are some Biblical parallels (whether intentional or not) that can still be drawn. 

I would argue that, for mature teens on up, KPop Demon Hunters (particularly with Rumi's story) has deep themes that could be seen as visual metaphors for spiritual warfare, with characters suffering from or struggling with shame and guilt, as well as temptation and identity. This includes literal scars, faults and imperfections ("Why can’t you look at me? All of me?”), and the consequences of keeping secrets from those closest and dearest to us. The film encourages viewers to embrace everything—not just some things—about themselves, instead of hiding them. Along with a few redemptive arcs, I was really moved and wowed by the film’s visual language of light beating the dark, as well as dark coming into the light. (Collectively and not alone, might I add.) PluggedIn described it less as justification and more as confession. As the artists and storytellers at Sony Animation have done (both visually and thematically), this is what it can look and sound like.