‘KPop Demon Hunters’ Review – Glitter, Demons, And The Healing Power Of Fandom

Okay, so hear me out—I’ve been knee-deep in K-pop since the era of flip phones and photocard trades on shady fan forums. Like, I’ve watched Taemin go from baby maknae to literal dance god. I’ve cried to TT, shouted fanchants like my life depended on it, and debated lightstick superiority at 3AM like it was an Olympic sport. K-pop has been the soundtrack to my most embarrassing crushes, friendship fallouts, and glow-ups. So when I saw Netflix dropped KPop Demon Hunters—an animated film where a girl group battles demons while performing slay-worthy stages? I basically combusted. And not to be dramatic, but it might’ve just healed a piece of my soul.

The premise sounds almost too good to be true: Huntrix, a chart-topping girl group, are also secretly demon hunters. They save the world in sequins and platform boots, literally powered by the love and energy of their fans. Tell me that’s not the most K-pop thing ever. What immediately hit me, though, is how much care the film puts into blending fantasy with real idol life. It’s not just glitter and cool moves—it really gets how intense and beautiful (and sometimes dark) the world of K-pop fandom can be.

At the heart of the movie is Rumi, voiced by Arden Cho, who’s dealing with some very personal demons—like, literally. She’s half-human, half-demon, and hiding that part of herself from her groupmates, Mira and Zoey. That secret, and the fear that it’ll make her unlovable, eats away at her ability to perform. If you’ve ever had to smile through anxiety, heartbreak, or impostor syndrome, Rumi’s arc hits hard. It’s such a clear metaphor for how we all mask our pain to keep the peace or preserve someone else’s image of us. And in idol culture especially, where you’re expected to be perfect 24/7, that message feels super real.

Also, let’s talk about the boys. Yes, the Saja Boys are the main rival group—and yes, they are literal demons. Like, the “hot, possibly evil but devastatingly charming” kind. And Jinu? The leader? I hate how hard I swooned. He has that tortured-soul energy, full of regret and longing, but also looks like he stepped out of a fan edit with rain falling behind him and sad piano music playing. Voiced by Ahn Hyo-seop, he somehow made “demon heartthrob with emotional baggage” the most relatable character in the room. His connection with Rumi unfolds slowly, never taking away from her growth, which I love. There’s romance, sure, but the real glow-up is Rumi learning to stop running from herself.

The animation is seriously next-level. It bursts with this vibrant, kinetic energy that totally gave me Into the Spider-Verse vibes, but with its own unique K-drama-meets-webtoon flair. The fight scenes are choreographed like dazzling dance battles, and honestly, every single frame looks like it could be my phone wallpaper. And those concert scenes? The way they bring the lighting, crowd reactions, and choreography to life is honestly better than some real stages I’ve been to. You can tell the creators paid incredible attention to every detail, capturing all the subtle nuances and flawless formations that make K-pop performances so mesmerizing. That dedication really shines through and makes everything feel so authentic and magical.

Now, musically? The tracks slap. Huntrix’s songs are girl crush, high-energy pop perfection, with just enough vulnerability to tug at your heartstrings. I may or may not have added “Takedown” to my gym playlist and imagined I was doing slow-mo flips off a demon’s back while hitting high notes. And the Saja Boys’ music? Evil never sounded so good. There’s a song called “Your Idol” that had me clapping like a seal. What’s even cooler is how the film leans into different idol styles—Huntrix gives us fierce, feminine power while the boys channel that moody, sleek, almost dangerous vibe. It’s all so well done, it’s kind of unreal.

That said, there are a few places where the movie could’ve given a little more. Mira and Zoey don’t get quite the same emotional depth as Rumi, and I wanted to see more of their backstories. Their voices are so distinct in the speaking parts, but sometimes it felt like different people were singing for them, and that can be a little jarring. Still, their chemistry as a group feels authentic, and their loyalty to Rumi, even after everything, made me tear up a little. Maybe we’ll get a sequel or a prequel someday? Please, Netflix?

Ultimately, what makes KPop Demon Hunters more than just a fun animated movie is how much heart it has. It talks about identity, shame, self-love, and healing without turning preachy or losing its sense of fun. It reminds us that being vulnerable isn’t weakness, and that real strength sometimes means letting people see the messy parts. It’s for the fans who scream at comebacks, for the idols who keep going when they’re tired, and for anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong—but still dared to shine anyway.

So yeah. Come for the demon-fighting, stay for the emotional catharsis, and if you catch yourself shipping Rumi and Jinu halfway through, just know… same.

KPop Demon Hunters is currently available to stream exclusively on Netflix.