Hallyu from Korean diaspora

A poster for Everland's "Kpop Demon Hunters" theme

When a K-pop girl group defeats a demonic boy band with killer dance moves and songs, you know it’s not your typical music drama. That’s the premise of "KPop Demon Hunters," a Netflix animated hit whose catchy soundtrack still lingers in my head weeks after watching. I’m not even a big K-pop fan, but the movie’s blend of Korean tradition, Hollywood spectacle and beautiful tunes pulled me in, just as it has audiences around the world.

Increasingly, some of the most exciting hallyu, or Korean wave, stories are being created not in Seoul, but by Koreans or those with Korean heritage outside the peninsula, a kind of cultural production from the Korean diaspora.

Broadly speaking, the Korean diaspora refers to ethnic Koreans living outside the Korean Peninsula. Their numbers exceed 7 million worldwide, from the bustling streets of Los Angeles’ Koreatown to the quiet suburbs of São Paulo and the thriving Korean enclaves in Tashkent. These communities carry their own local stories, languages infused with Korean words and layered identities. In creating music, films, cuisine and digital media, they produce works that are Korean, local and global all at once, blending and reinterpreting cultural influences in ways that may often have broader appeal to audiences around the world.

In addition to its idol-studded premise, "KPop Demon Hunters" is rich with traditional Korean elements, including references to shamanism, hanbok-inspired costumes and intricate brush-style artwork, some of which even native Koreans may overlook.

At the same time, it is very much Hollywood in that its plot follows the familiar beats of heroism, with exaggerated comedic action and dynamic animation. That balance makes sense: it’s produced by a Hollywood studio with American funding, yet led by creators of Korean heritage. Their perspective allows them to extract distinctly Korean motifs and weave them into a format that feels instantly accessible to global audiences. I believe it’s something that can only be made by those with Korean heritage abroad, as they possess “fresh” eyes to look into Korean culture from the outside.

The same applies to recent films like "Minari" and "Past Lives," and American TV shows like "Beef" where ethnic Korean directors use personal narratives to explore themes of belonging, love and identity. These works feel deeply Korean yet speak to universal human experiences, pushing the boundaries of what hallyu can mean beyond its idol culture.

It's not just movies and dramas, but the broader entertainment and culture industry. For example, Korean American singer and rapper Audrey Nuna, who played a leading role in "KPop Demon Hunters," is redefining what it means to be an Asian artist in the global R&B and hip-hop space with sharp lyrics and inventive visuals, drawing from both Korean influences and the American music scene, proving that the diaspora can create sounds and styles that resonate far beyond one cultural sphere.

Then there are many writers who tell the stories of the Korean diaspora. For example, Michelle Zauner, a Korean American musician with indie-pop band Japanese Breakfast and the bestselling author of the memoir "Crying in H Mart," often incorporates her Korean heritage into her work, whether in the vivid food memories in her writing or in her music videos that feature Korean cultural imagery. Her creativity shows that hallyu can flourish outside of mainstream pop, resonating with audiences who connect to Korea through literature, indie music and personal storytelling.

It would be a mistake to think of hallyu as purely an export from Seoul’s entertainment agencies located in the affluent Gangnam District. It’s becoming more layered, nuanced and multifaceted. Here, diaspora Koreans act as cultural interpreters, translators and creators who make Korean content resonate beyond its borders. They are uniquely positioned to bridge cultures, understanding both the nuance of Korea and the tastes of their local communities.

Hallyu is no longer just about the tides flowing out from Korea. It’s also about the waves returning home, reshaped and enriched by Koreans living abroad. And in that back-and-forth motion, the Korean wave continues to evolve, producing works that are bold, unexpected and irresistibly global.

Min Seong-jae (smin@pace.edu) is a professor of communication and media studies at Pace University in New York.