how KPop Demon Hunters rocked the internet – and the Oscars
- Written by Jennifer Stokes, Associate Professor, Teaching and Learning Innovation, Adelaide University
K-pop stars Huntr/x are carb-loading, pre-show, on a private jet, when their snacking is rudely interrupted by demons. Rumi, Zoey and Mira break into song, maintaining the tempo as they defeat the demons, drop to earth, and land in a packed stadium concert to tell the screaming audience that’s “how it’s done, done, done”.
This electrifying sequence launches viewers into the world of KPop Demon Hunters. Released in June 2025, engaging action and a catchy soundtrack rapidly led this work to become Netflix’s most watched film of all time. This week, the film won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature, and another for Best Original Song with its identity-embracing anthem Golden.
With content that celebrates Korean pop aesthetics and connects with diverse fandoms, KPop Demon Hunters was arguably destined for success. It’s a fine example of a film that is made for, driven by – and which reflects upon – our digitally-run attention economy.
A wholesome story of self-acceptance
KPop Demon Hunters is a slickly animated musical and supernatural fantasy. The demon-slaying girl group Huntr/x protect humanity, using K-pop songs and physical strength to keep evil in the netherworld.
The demons decide the best way to defeat Huntr/x is by establishing a rival K-pop band – the Saja Boys. Through their catchy songs, the Saja Boys capture the public’s attention to feed to the uber-demon Gwi-ma (meaning “evil ghost” in Korean) – positioning the demons for world domination.
Huntr/x must use the power of K-pop – and learn to embrace their true selves – to save the world.
The theme of battling conflicting internal identities resonates on multiple levels – for young people struggling to make meaning in today’s messy world, and for an Asian diaspora who may have never seen themselves reflected in such a cultural juggernaut.
Ear worms to draw people in
KPop Demon Hunters has dominated global charts since its release. Produced by Sony Pictures Animation and distributed via Netflix, the film was viewed more than 569 million times in eight months. It then made the leap to sing-along screenings around the world.
The fast-paced story is propelled by a catchy soundtrack, which fuses Korean lyrics with Western pop elements. The fictional K-pop group Huntr/x became the first girl group to top the Billboard Hot 100 since Destiny’s Child’s Bootylicious in 2001. Frozen’s Let it Go only ever got to number five.
Golden won a Golden Globe, and also became the first K-pop song to win a Grammy.
A movie for the K–pop generation
The film itself is unashamedly pop. When the Saja Boys first perform onscreen, the girls can’t help but join the crowd in wiggling their shoulders. “It is annoyingly catchy,” Rumi concedes.
Gen-Z language is embedded throughout the film, such as when Rumi reflects on her journey to become “the Queen” she’s meant to be. When Mira croons, “fit check for my napalm era”, she is both checking her outfit and prepping for an explosive battle. The word play here adds several layers of meaning.
Those watching the music charts in the film closely will also spot an in-joke when they see a Huntr/x song rise above real-world group Twice (members of which were vocalists for several Huntr/x songs).
The narrative both analyses internet culture and strongly connects with its potential, exhibiting attributes shown to increase viral success. The film’s high energy, fun tone and often celebratory sequences make it very shareable; fans were quick to create TikTok dances, memes and gifs.
Its critical and commercial success is also grounded in deliberate cultural policy in the form of hallyu (aka the Korean wave). This cultural export strategy was first implemented by the South Korean government in the late 1990s to exert soft power through cultural products that draw positive attention to – and drive economic interest in – the country.
KPop Demon Hunters’ visuals are grounded in Korean cultural references, from the traditional gat hats worn by the demon boy band, to the humour of the tiger-magpie duo Derpy and Sussie – motifs based on hojakdo folk art, which presented an early form of social critique through a bumbling aristocratic tiger and a wise common-folk magpie.
Virality balanced with contemporary concerns
From Buffy the Vampire Slayer, to the Sailor Moon anime and manga, to Wednesday, supernatural fantasy texts often depict young women fighting monsters as metaphors for contemporary moral dilemmas. So what are the metaphors here?
The film’s literal “demonisation” of pop music isn’t subtle. Yet it acts as meta-textual commentary, actively countering narratives that frame pop culture as inherently negative or destructive.
It also highlights the outsized power of celebrities and influencers in the world today, and how they can leverage our attention for their own ends.
The Saja Boys play with the notion of influencer as “idol” – in both the celebrity and religious sense – causing viewers to reflect on what celebrities sacrifice for fame, and how it’s a misjudgement to see them as more than human.
The Korean word saja has a dual meaning of both lion and Grim Reaper, subtly emphasising the risks of idolisation. For generations raised in the shadows of influencers, the film raises important moral questions.
At a time when studios are increasingly leaning on safe options such as adaptations, franchises and sequels, KPop Demon Hunters gave us an original, clever story that caters to online cultures and underrepresented groups, while exploring a range of contemporary anxieties.
That, indeed, is how “it’s done, done, done”.
Authors: Jennifer Stokes, Associate Professor, Teaching and Learning Innovation, Adelaide University
