Intense doc offers transcendent treatment of queer fetish pioneer

If you’re one of the 500 million people who made “KPop Demon Hunter” the most-watched Netflix original title in the streaming platform’s history, this article isn’t for you.

But if you were one of the millions who didn’t join the party when Maggie Kang’s animated musical fantasy was released last summer, you might be wondering why this particular piece of pop youth culture is gaining traction during an awards season that’s almost certain to end with an Oscar or two. If so, please keep reading.

got it. If you’re not a young teenager (or never had a teenager), it may have flown under your radar. If you don’t like KPop, or the fantasy genre is just not your thing, there’s no reason that title should pique your interest. On the other hand, they’ll think it’s just not made for them and leave it at that.

More than half a year later, “KPop Demon Hunter” still hasn’t faded into pop culture memory, even as the social media world continues to scroll at a “new, now, next” pace. While it may feel like there’s been a resurgence of interest since the film swept the major awards for Best Animated Film and Best Original Song and came close to winning Oscar gold, the truth is that interest has never waned at all. Millions of fans streamed the soundtrack album on loop the entire time.

Music wasn’t the only thing they embraced, though it was definitely a big factor. After all, the film’s signature song “Golden” earned it a Grammy Award, along with all the film industry honors. But Kang’s anime-influenced urban fantasy taps into something more fundamental than the song’s catchiness. Through the filter of her experience as a Korean immigrant growing up in Canada, she draws on the traditions and myths of her native culture and seamlessly blends them into a modern, distinctly Western-flavored “girl power” adventure about the internationally popular KPop girl band, The Huntricks, consisting of lead singer Rumi (Arden Cho), lead dancer Mira (Mei Hong), and rapper and lyricist Zoe (Yoo Ji-young). They happen to be warriors and are tasked with protecting humanity from the influence of Gwima (Lee Byung-hun), the king of the demon world. The demon world is prevented from entering our world by the power of their music and voices. Oh, and also by their ability to kick the devil’s ass.

Hoping to beat the girls at their own game, Gwima sends in a demonic boy band led by handsome human-turned-devil Jin-woo (Ahn Hyo-seop) to steal their fans. A rivalry ensues, but things get complicated (understandably) when sparks fly between Rumi and Jinwoo, forcing Rumi to confront her half-demon heritage, which she has kept secret even from her bandmates, but this time threatens to destroy Hunttrix from within. When their power is needed most.

It’s a dreamlike experience full of bubblegum-flavored fever, and most of the time it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Filled with outrageous kid-friendly humor and pop-culture parodies, the film might feel like it’s poking fun at itself if it weren’t for the obvious sincerity of its celebration of all things K-pop, and the tangible weight it brings in navigating its central conflict, ultimately not between the human and demon worlds, but between the long-held prejudices of the past and the promise of a future without them.

That’s the hook that has given “KPop Demon Hunters” such a wide and diverse following, and makes it feel like a timely message for the real world here and now. In her struggle to come to terms with her partially demonic nature, or rather the shame and stigma she feels because of it, Rumi becomes a touch point for viewers who know what it’s like to hide their full selves and risk judgment (or worse) from a world that has taught them to hate themselves for their differences, and perhaps even for viewers who know what it’s like to hate themselves for their differences.

For obvious reasons, that focus adds a powerful layer of personal relevance for queer viewers. In fact, Kane has said that he wanted the film to reflect a “coming out” story and draw parallels not only to the LGBTQ community, but also to people who have been marginalized by race, gender, trauma, neurological differences, and anything else that cultural bias can make people feel like “others” and force them to deal with pressure to hide important parts of their identity in order to fit into a “normal” community. The work acts like a direct message to anyone who feels “demonized” because of something that is part of their nature, over which they have no choice or control, and posits that deeply personal struggle as the key to saving the world.

Of course, KPop Demon Hunters’ emphasis on its pro-diversity message doesn’t mean it neglects the real reason to experience a genre movie in the first place: action, fun, and fantasy. You don’t have to feel like an “other” to enjoy the ride or receive the message. Sure, it’s nice to feel “seen,” but it’s probably far more satisfying to know that the rest of the world may also be learning how to “see” you. By the time it reaches a fittingly grand finale, Kane’s film (which she co-directed with Chris Appelhans and co-wrote with Appelhans, Danya Jimenez, and Hannah McMechan) firmly makes the case that in a community threatened by hatred of perceived differences, the real enemy is not our differences, but our hatred.

Of course, there are many other reasons to enjoy it. Visually, it’s an imaginative work, building an immersive world by superimposing an ancient mythological cosmology onto a decidedly modern setting, creating a kind of fanciful “metaverse” that feels more real than reality (just the hallmark of great mythmaking). Still, there’s Looney Toons-esque cartoon slapstick, intricately choreographed dance and fight sequences that defy the laws of physics, clever satirical commentary on big pop music and the propaganda machine that promotes it, not to mention plenty of glittery K-Pop earworms to keep you hooked back to the thrills of being a sugar-fueled, hormonal 13-year-old. But what sets this apart from many similar generic products is that it unapologetically celebrates the idea that our strength lies in our differences, and is an open invitation to shed shame and bring peace. your The difference is reflected in the light.

So, yes, you might think “KPop Demon Hunters” is exactly that movie – and you’re right – but it’s also so much more. If you have been resisting, now is the time to give in.

At least you’ll have something else to root for on Oscar night.