K-Pop Demon Hunters Review: Netflix's Bingeable Animated Film Is Worth The Hype

NDTV

31-07-2025

New Delhi:
There's something wildly entertaining about a film that doesn't try to downplay its own ridiculousness, a movie that knows exactly how absurd its premise is and leans in with style, humour and enough emotional weight to keep things steady. K-Pop Demon Hunters, Netflix's latest animated feature from Sony Pictures Animation, does just that.
Set in a glittering, demon-shadowed version of South Korea, K-Pop Demon Hunters introduces us to Huntrix, a wildly popular K-pop girl group composed of Rumi, Mira and Zoey, who lead a double life.
On stage, they're idols with chart-topping hits; offstage, they are the last in a lineage of demon slayers tasked with maintaining the Golden Honmoon, a magical barrier that keeps demonic forces sealed beneath the Earth.
But just as Huntrix stands on the brink of sealing the barrier permanently, a new threat rises in the form of the Saja Boys, a newly formed demon boy band with devastating charm and a secret agenda to destroy Huntrix and resurrect their demonic overlord, Gwi-Ma.
Leading the Saja Boys is Jinu, a half-human with a soft voice, sharp abs and more than one secret of his own.
What follows is a fast-paced, music-fuelled showdown that's as much about inner conflict as it is about slaying purple-marked demons with glowing weapons.
Rumi, the group's lead singer, is hiding something: she's part demon herself. Her growing connection with Jinu threatens to undo everything Huntrix has worked for, and the film makes room for that tension to simmer, without ever dragging the story down.
At just under 90 minutes, K-Pop Demon Hunters keeps things moving, from slick action sequences and chaotic rehearsals to downtime filled with bingsu, bubble tea and snack-fuelled karaoke nights.
The animation is a visual feast. Pulling from webtoons, manhwa and the kinetic style of Spider-Verse, the film layers bold colours, hyper-stylised frames, and comic-book-inspired transitions that feel both fresh and familiar.
Every performance sequence feels like its own concert film, while fight scenes glide between dance choreography and anime-style flair. There's barely a dull frame.
The humour lands, too. Whether it's Zoey's exaggerated reactions (eyes turning into corncobs at the sight of abs), dramatic spa-day montages, or sly jabs at K-drama tropes, the film doesn't take itself too seriously. But it's also not afraid to get sentimental.
But underneath its humour is a sincere respect for the K-pop world it playfully skewers. From the hyper-detailed stage designs based on real Korean landmarks to subtle folklore references (including sidekicks modelled after traditional spirits), the film is a cultural celebration as much as it is an animated romp.
The sisterhood between the three girls feels lived-in, and the pressure of holding it all together, the fame, the fandom, the demon-hunting, is never brushed aside. Even the villain, Gwi-Ma, voiced with menace by Lee Byung-hun, gets just the right amount of screen time to keep the stakes high without overshadowing the core trio.
Then there's the music, probably the strongest element after the visuals. With original tracks performed by EJAE, Audrey Nuna, Rei Ami, and even TWICE covering Takedown in the end credits, the soundtrack is super catchy.
Songs like Golden, How It's Done and Free do more than fill space between dialogue; they push the story forward, heighten the action, and stay in your head long after the credits roll. It's no surprise the fictional bands from the film actually charted; this is a soundtrack with real legs.
Maggie Kang's directorial debut doesn't just tick boxes, it redefines them. As a Korean-American filmmaker, she brings a lived-in understanding of K-pop's duality: the glittering, commercial surface and the rigorous, identity-shaping struggle underneath. This results in a narrative that isn't merely about spectacle or romance (though both are present), but about belonging, vulnerability and self-acceptance.
And while K-Pop Demon Hunters doesn't exactly break new ground in terms of story, it's smart enough to know that it doesn't have to. It finds strength in the details: Rumi taking off her stage makeup and slipping into oversized sweats to write music alone, Zoey's goofy confidence masking deeper anxieties, the way each member of the Saja Boys is clearly modelled after familiar K-pop archetypes. Even the tiger demon and the magpie sidekick (likely added for toy potential) are hard not to love.
2025 unquestionably belongs to K-Pop Demon Hunters. It's not flawless, the backstories could've used more depth, and some beats feel rushed, but it's fun, sharp, and far better than it has any right to be. Huntrix might sing, dance, and slay, but the real magic is that they pull all three off without missing a beat.