In the Flesh: KPop Demon Hunters

Animated in a style intentionally evocative of both stop-motion and manhwa/manga, KPop Demon Hunters stands out immediately from the visually generic computer-animated fare churned out by Pixar and Dreamworks. The outsize, cartoonish emoting, the gorgeously fluid jerkiness of the visual style, it shows a real understanding of what works in animation. The script, alas, is not operating on the same level. The first hour is serviceable, delivering jokes at a steady clip and painting the three main characters in very broad strokes, but in the final act it collapses under its own weight, trying to jam in extraneous elements like Celine (Yunjin Kim) for one more scene as its mythology slips out of its grasp and becomes a generic fireworks display of energy beams and cobbled-together exposition circling but never arriving at a central idea. Bluntly, it needs two more passes and a punch-up.

But for every generic element and sketchy character, Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans’ film boasts a piece of ludicrously successful design, a delightfully choreographed action scene, or a catchy earworm. The demon tiger alone should win whoever first drew that thing an Oscar, it’s so immediately charming and lovable while being wholly visually distinct from the cute creature sidekicks of Studio Ghibli or Pixar. There are fun costumes, great voice performances (Lee Byung-hun really steals the show with his soft-spoken, crackling turn as the demon king Gwi-ma), cute visual gags. The boy band fronted by demon musician Jinu (Ahn Hyo-seop) is a particular source of solid one-liners. There is, in short, a lot to like here, delivered in a gorgeous style inspired by Joseon-era Buddhist sculpture and paintings. What there isn’t, is substance.

KPop Demon Hunters has a story only in the broadest possible definition of the word. What do Rumi’s (Arden Cho) demonic marks mean? What is the film trying to tell us about overwork and identity? Are demons just humans who have sold their souls but can still be redeemed, or are they a separate kind of entity who can never coexist peacefully with humanity? It’s clear that thoughts on all of these subjects flashed through the writers’ minds at some point in the creative process, and equally clear that none of them cohered in the final draft. What you wind up with is a very pretty film about believing in yourself and the power of being different, or something to that effect, which is about as exciting as wet bread when you get past the surface-level excitement. It’s a wonderful treat for children and teens, but those are audiences who deserve more than just spun sugar, too.