‘KPop Demon Hunters’ And The Spiritual Divide Behind The Christian Backlash
(ANALYSIS) “KPop Demon Hunters” has taken the world by storm. The animated Sony-Netflix original is Netflix’s most-watched movie or show of all time (by a mile) with 481.6 million views worldwide in the second half of 2025.
It became the No. 1 film of the weekend at the box office while it was still available to watch for free on Netflix. It’s also received two Oscar nominations: best animated feature and best original song.
But some American Christians have expressed concern about the film. A quick Google search turns up multiple articles addressing concerns from Christians about whether the film is demonic or safe to watch with your kids. Is this just another example of Christians freaking out about things that are weird or have magic, like Dungeons & Dragons or Harry Potter?
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The answer is complicated. “KPop Demon Hunters” reflects parallel religious and demographic changes happening in Korean and American society. Those are creating increasing anxiety and division between the religious and spiritual populations. And those divides are causing each side to increasingly see the other as "demonic.” Charges that – on the Christian side — are at least partly well in keeping with its traditions.
The film follows world-famous K-pop band trio Rumi, Mira and Zoey, who are secretly the latest in a line of demon hunters that have protected mankind for millennia. But just as they are about to seal the barrier between worlds and save humankind forever, the demon king Gwi-Ma sends a demonic boy band to beat the girl trio at their own game and steal the souls of mankind.
“KPop” is the latest example of an American animation studio successfully adapting Eastern culture and spirituality. The Huntrix are based on traditional Korean priestess shamans known as mudang. These Mudang used a combination of song and dance in their rituals – known as “gut”— to “ward off spirits, divine fortunes, and heal illnesses.” The film cleverly combines the rising global popularity of the Korean musical genre “K-Pop” with the historical figures of priestess warriors.
It would be like if someone made a movie about a church worship band battling Satan.
This is also why, on the surface, it might feel silly to call “KPop Demon Hunters” demonic. After all, the title is literally called “Demon Hunters,” as in, the demons are the bad guys. (Very similar to how Sandy Peterson, an LDS member and one of the “Doom” game’s main developers, responded to claims that the game was demonic by reminding people that the game was about killing demons.) And the portrayals of demons are mostly in line with how Christians see demons: evil, after people’s souls, and willing to use the insecurities of good people to tempt them into trusting them.
This is much closer to how Christians view demons than how demons were viewed even in Korean shamanism, which saw wandering spirits, which shamans had to deal with, as sometimes victims who didn’t mean any harm.
But it’s also a bit more complicated. South Korea has long been home to competing spiritual worldviews, and “KPop Demon Hunters” reflects that mix. According to a 2024 Pew Research study, 32% of South Koreans identify as Christian, 13% identify as Buddhist, and 52% are religiously unaffiliated. But Korean Shamanism predates both Christianity and Buddhism and has long functioned as a “folk religion” of various traditions and rituals practiced by many within other traditions and those who identify with non.
But within South Korea — and around the world — Christianity has always been less accommodating of syncretism with other religions than a religion like Buddhism. Buddhism has long been willing to absorb other faiths as simply different expressions of the same ideas. Christianity has historically been “all or nothing”.
The way Christians dealt with demons was to cast them out in Jesus' name. Attempting to use magic under your own power to deal with demons was itself considered–to all intents and purposes–demonic. Because to Christians, spiritual forces were divided into two camps: those who served God (angels) and those who did not (demons).
In that way, American Christian fears that “Demon Hunters” might be indirectly promoting the demonic are (agree or disagree with it) well within Christian tradition. Using sorcery (as the Huntrix do) to defeat demons is just using the devil’s tools to fight the devil; you’ll be corrupted all the same. Hence, Christian media is sounding the alarm at the rising number of young people engaging in New Age practices. Rumi redeems the demonic Jinu by defying her aunt and developing a relationship with him, sounding danger bells to those of a traditional Christian disposition.
This brings us to another similarity in Korean and American spirituality that “KPop” showcases: both countries are “repaganizing.” While a slight majority of South Koreans don’t identify with any particular religion, most still believe in God or supernatural beings. Likewise, American identification with organized religion is going down (though there’s some evidence it might have leveled off), but those who identify as “Spiritual But Not Religious” (SBNR) are going up. More people in America today believe in the afterlife than did in the 70s. And just like “KPop” makes Korean Shamans pop culture heroes, Hollywood does the same with people like Thor and Norse myths.
Where the film seems to reflect more American trends is in demographics. In both countries, young people are more likely to be religiously unaffiliated, but they have different gender/family breakdowns. In America, religion is increasingly something men and families do; South Korea still appears to follow the global trends of women’s greater religious participation, with no clear marriage-singleness gap.
“KPop Demon Hunters” reflects the American side of this: it’s about a trio of single women using magic to defeat demons. The romantic feelings they have for men are temptations to the dark side, which they overcome to return to their lives of happy single friendship and careers.
For at least the last decade, the trend in female-focused storytelling has been about self-acceptance and overcoming an oppressive society’s social shame. Whether that’s Elsa in “Frozen,” Elphaba in “Wicked,” Barbie and Ken in “Barbie” or Charlie in “Hazbin Hotel.”
It’s only when the protagonists accept and love themselves – even, and especially, the parts society doesn’t accept – that they can “defy gravity,” “let it go” and become “Kennough,” because, according to “KPop,” this is “What it Sounds Like.”
It’s no wonder then that these films have also been seen as LGBTQ coming-out stories. And why women have been increasingly likely to identify as such.
This is how “KPop Demon Hunters” treats the demonic: the real problem with demons is that they make us feel shame, which gives them control over us. Whether that’s how the boy band demon Jinu is trapped by his shame to Gwi-Ma — and really just needs someone like Rumi to give him unconditional love to redeem him — or Rumi’s half-demon side that she hides from her friends.
It’s really the shame that’s the problem, rather than the things worthy of being ashamed of. Rumi confronts her aunt at the end of the film: “Why couldn’t you love me?”
“I do!” her aunt insists.
“All of me!” Rumi yells.
But this is the exact opposite view of the Religious Right. The group — from its pastors to its religion-friendly online male influencers (like Jordan Peterson) to its faith-based (and increasingly “based faith”) films — holds to the traditional Christian view that man is both made in the image of God and also born sinful.
So the things wrong with us are really wrong with us and need to be repented of. This may be why Religious Right parents raise kids in the “authoritative” model and liberal parents in the “permissive” model. Or why the Religious Right sees far less contradiction between loving LGBTQ people and condemning their sexuality than the spiritual left. Or why the Religious Right calls equating loving sinners with loving sin “toxic empathy”, but the spiritual left calls it empathy.
As the Religious Right and “spiritual left” drift further apart, the easier it is for them to “demonize” each other. While Christians may worry that “KPop Demon Hunters” is demonic, the film hints that it feels the same about them. The demon Gwi-Ma keeps his followers trapped as his minions through their shame. Just how the spiritual left describes the Religious Right.
Whether “KPop Demon Hunters” is demonic depends on your definition. But it does reflect our divides in the culture war. A war both sides are getting comfortable describing in distinctly spiritual, dare I say “holy,” terms.
Joseph Holmes is an award-nominated filmmaker and culture critic living in New York. He is co-host of the podcast “The Overthinkers” and its companion website theoverthinkersjournal.world, where he discusses art, culture and faith with his fellow overthinkers. His other work and contact info can be found at josephholmesstudios.com.