“K-Pop Demon Hunters” Review: Netflix’s Animated Fantasy Slays!

At some point in human civilisation, we decided that the logical next step after “K-pop idol” was “demon slayer.” Maybe it was inevitable. After all, if you can survive a world tour, synchronized choreography, and the wrath of K-pop stans online, what’s a little movie about hellspawn combat on the side?

That’s the pitch behind “Kpop Demon Hunters”, Netflix’s glittery fever dream of an animated action comedy where stage makeup doubles as war paint. It’s part girl group fantasy, part supernatural smackdown, and 100% chaos—in the best and occasionally weirdest ways.

It sounds ridiculous—and it absolutely is—but somehow, it works. Mostly. So let’s talk about what “Kpop Demon Hunters” actually does with all that glitter and astral energy.

To begin with, there’s lore. Ancient, magical, girl-power lore. Long ago, three women fought off a wave of soul-devouring demons led by Gwi-Ma, the Demon King. Their voices, charged with raw emotion, formed a barrier called the Honmoon and sealed the underworld shut. Since then, each generation has passed the mic—and the monster-fighting duties—to a new trio of chosen idols. Wait, the power of music… And fighting demons… Hmm, that kinda seems familiar.

Fast forward to today, that legacy lives on in Huntrix, the hottest girl group on the planet. They’re your new favourite demon-slaying trio. And yes, it’s time to pick your bias.

Mira (May Hong) is the edgy rebel—rumour has it she once wore a sleeping bag to the Met Gala. Zoey (Ji-young Yoo), the Burbank-born rap goddess, delivers bars as sharp as her weapons. And Rumi (Arden Cho), the group’s emotional centre, carries a tragic past and a secret even she barely understands.

Naturally, we meet Huntrix in classic idol fashion: slurping down instant ramyeon en route to the grand finale of their world tour. The stadium is packed. Fans are screaming. Their manager, Bobby (Ken Jeong), is losing his mind. Why the delay? Their plane was hijacked by demons. Obvi.

What follows is a mid-air brawl that sets the tone: kinetic, flashy, and choreographed to slay. The animation leans heavily into anime territory, with bold lines and stylised movement. If you’ve seen Riot’s K/DA videos, the DNA feels familiar—and honestly, we were hyped!

The girls crash into the arena, strike a pose, and launch into a high-energy performance while still swatting away the last of the demons. As far as entrances go? Ten out of ten. BLACKPINK might dap them up respectfully from the VIP box.

However, beneath the glamour and glitter, something darker begins to stir. Rumi has always known about her demon blood. But Mira and Zoey don’t. As her old marks resurface and her voice begins to falter, the pressure quietly builds. She’s not just battling monsters on stage—she’s battling herself. And if she can’t hold it together, the group might fracture entirely.

Meanwhile, a flashy new boy group enters the picture: the Saja Boys. Five flawless men. Perfect hair. Jawlines carved by the gods. And yes, they’re demons too. In fact, their plan is simple: steal enough fan energy to collapse the Honmoon and unleash Gwi-Ma back into the world.

With Huntrix faltering, the Saja Boys start to eclipse them completely. The world isn’t just in danger—it’s getting distracted by six-packs and the new “gochujang sauces.” So, how are Rumi, Mira, and Zoey supposed to fight back against a group powered by shame, insecurity, and sheer thirst-trap energy?

At its core, ‘Kpop Demon Hunters’ isn’t just about vanquishing monsters—it’s about confronting the ones you carry inside. The film explores shame, identity, and the fear that if people saw the “real” you, they’d walk away. For Rumi, that fear is all-consuming. She believes that if she hides the truth, she can protect her group and her legacy. However, by bottling everything up, she’s slowly silencing herself—literally.

As a result, her voice begins to falter. Her greatest gift becomes her curse—not because of what she is, but because of how deeply she believes she shouldn’t be. The film suggests that healing doesn’t come from hiding or even from strength. Instead, it comes from vulnerability and trust. You have to share your whole, flawed self with the people who love you.

So when the truth finally comes out—when Rumi’s marks reappear and she can no longer pretend—it isn’t just a dramatic reveal. It’s devastation. Mira and Zoey feel betrayed, confused, and hurt. But that reaction makes it feel real. Because closeness isn’t about always agreeing—it’s about letting people into your pain and hoping they stay.

The same inner turmoil plagues Jinu (Ahn Hyo-seop), the heart of the Saja Boys. While the rest play their roles as flashy villains, Jinu carries a quiet ache. Long ago, he made a choice: he accepted Gwi-Ma’s offer in exchange for a beautiful voice that could lift his family out of poverty. Yet once fame arrived, he abandoned them—and he’s never stopped regretting it.

Unlike Rumi, whose shame is about her origins, Jinu’s shame stems from his actions. Still, both characters carry their pain in silence, convinced they’re unworthy of forgiveness. And when they meet, it’s not as enemies, but as kindred spirits. Rumi sees in Jinu the worst-case version of herself. In trusting him, she starts to heal.

Their duet is ‘Kpop Demon Hunters’ most powerful scene. It’s not about flash—it’s about honesty. Two people, broken in different ways, letting their walls fall just long enough to feel whole again. For a film that’s so kinetic and loud, this moment hits the hardest.

Visually, ‘Kpop Demon Hunters’ slays. Sony Pictures Animation, the same studio behind the ‘Spider-Verse’ films, doesn’t hold back. The colours are vivid. The action is dynamic. And the stylised music video sequences explode with flair. Each one becomes its surreal concert moment—think fight choreography meets comeback stage.

For example, one MV-style battle features surreal lighting and shattered crystallised effects. As we said, it’s pulled from the distinct K/DA style. And other moments are quite literally MVs. But they help tell the story in a cool, flashy way that helps to externalise a lot of the emotions that these characters are going through.

And let’s not forget the music, because ‘K-Pop Demon Hunters’ delivers more than just fight choreography and sparkly lore. The songs are genuine earworms, slipping seamlessly between fierce performance numbers and emotionally charged ballads. The Saja Boys’ hit single “Soda Pop” in particular? Completely unserious and somehow still a total bop. Yeah, it’s gonna get stuck in our heads till it becomes annoying.

Still, the film isn’t flawless. The third act feels a bit rushed. Character threads that seemed crucial—like Rumi’s relationship with her foster mother Celine—don’t get the space they deserve. Their emotional fallout feels underdeveloped. We get hints of tension and disappointment, but no true resolution. It’s a shame, because that dynamic had real potential.

Likewise, the world-building has rich foundations, but doesn’t fully land. The lore is fun but underexplored. The stakes feel huge, yet the showdown wraps up a little too neatly. After so much build-up, it ends with more style than substance. Honestly, we’d like the team behind this to maybe do a spinoff to explore more of it? Because there is stuff in there that does feel undercooked at times.

Even so, the film’s heart remains in the right place. ‘Kpop Demon Hunters’ is vibrant, sincere, and full of chaotic charm. It might be messy in places, but it also bursts with feeling. It’s a celebration of identity, girlhood, fandom, and glitter bombs. And it understands that even idols, the ones who seem perfect, have demons to face.

It’s also worth noting that ‘K-Pop Demon Hunters’ marks another chapter in Sony Pictures Animation’s growing slate of Asian-fronted stories. Following ‘Over the Moon’ and ‘Wish Dragon’, both vibrant, culturally grounded animated films also released via Netflix, this movie continues the studio’s investment in diverse, emotionally resonant storytelling with global roots. It’s heartening to see major animation players spotlighting Asian narratives not just as backdrops, but as central, dynamic forces in genre storytelling.

For anyone who loves K-pop, anime, or the idea of your favourite artists wielding crystal blades, this one’s for you. It may not be perfect, but like any good idol, it shines brightest when it’s being unapologetically itself.

‘K-Pop Demon Hunters’ is currently slaying exclusively on Netflix.