KPop Demon Hunter: Dancing with Demons? (article)
Some films sound like they were dreamed up during a late-night pub crawl after one too many pints. KPOP DEMON HUNTER is precisely one of those titles. It’s an animated caper in which members of a K-pop girl group hang up their sequinned costumes, only to don mystical weapons and save the world from an invasion of actual demons. Yes, you read that correctly: it’s BTS meets Buffy, but with even more eyeliner and considerably better choreography.
On paper, this thing should not work. Pop idols as monster slayers is the kind of idea usually found scrawled on the back of a takeaway menu, just before being filed away under “too silly even for anime.” Yet here we are. Against all reason, KPOP DEMON HUNTER has become a minor cult phenomenon, particularly among younger genre fans who ought to be rolling their eyes… and yet can’t stop streaming the thing, buying the merchandise, and endlessly arguing online about which member of the team is “best girl” when facing a ten-foot succubus with attitude.
Why? Well, several reasons, all equally baffling.
Firstly, it is utterly sincere. The film never winks at the audience or tries to say, “Look, we know this is ridiculous.” Oh no. These characters belt out chart-topping singles one minute and banish hellspawn with blazing crossbows the next, without so much as a smirk. It’s precisely that lack of irony that hooks people. In an age where most superhero fare comes with a side order of self-awareness and quips, KPOP DEMON HUNTER doubles down on its earnestness and leaves you blinking in bemused respect.
Secondly, the animation is gorgeous. We’re talking neon-drenched cityscapes, dazzling concert sequences, and fight scenes choreographed like dance numbers. The demons don’t shuffle on like rejects from a Doctor Who rubber-suit warehouse; they strut, twirl, and pose like rival boybands gone to Hell. It’s mad, it’s colourful, and it’s weirdly mesmerising — like someone spliced Neon Genesis Evangelion with a music video directed by Lady Gaga’s fever dream.
Then there’s the music. Say what you like about K-pop – and plenty of middle-aged blokes will, loudly – but it’s engineered with military precision to lodge in your brain. These songs accompany the demon battles, turning fights into bizarre mash-ups of exorcism and Eurovision. You’ll hum them against your will. Here at SFcrowsnest, we’re still haunted by a track that rhymes “apocalypse” with “love eclipse,” and we fear we may be humming it until our dying days.
Of course, let’s not forget the sheer crossover appeal. Younger audiences have grown up in a world where media is one big soup: superheroes, anime, TikTok dances, gaming streamers, K-pop idols… all swirling together without borders. To them, mashing K-pop stardom with demon hunting isn’t bonkers, it’s logical. Why wouldn’t your favourite pop star also fight ancient evil on her days off? That’s practically a job requirement in 2025.
And perhaps that’s the secret. What looks to us jaded veterans of genre fandom as utterly barking may, to fresh eyes, be the natural evolution of entertainment. Once upon a time, Spider-Man was considered a daft idea (“A teenager? As a superhero? Pfft!”). Now he’s the cornerstone of modern myth. Give it a decade and KPOP DEMON HUNTER may well be seen as the pioneer of a new hybrid genre: pop-idols-versus-the-apocalypse.
Until then, we can only sit back, shake our heads in disbelief, and admit… it’s oddly fun. Like eating a deep-fried Mars Bar, or watching your nan master Fortnite, it shouldn’t exist – yet we’re glad it does.
So next time you catch a gaggle of teenagers debating whether the lead singer’s demon-slaying scythe has better DPS than her rival’s holy microphone stand, don’t scoff. Just remember: the kids are all right. They’re just fighting demons to a banging beat.
