K-culture and 'KPop Demon Hunters'

Several people have asked me what I think about "KPop Demon Hunters." I’ve been reluctant to respond because my area is Korean culture, not pop culture or movies.

But when there is a movie that relies on or at least touches on Korean culture, I feel more comfortable saying something. So, dragging my feet and resisting, I have finally succumbed and offer my take on the phenomenon — and it is a phenomenon, more than just a movie.

The movie broke records on Netflix. Its soundtrack has been wildly popular and in-theater screenings have attracted crowds as well. It’s earning lots of money and by all measures, it’s a resounding success.

Knowing this, I finally mustered the will to watch it. It wasn’t easy. My wife had watched part of it, found it dull and turned it off. And I heard it was an animation, which did not sound very appealing. But in spite of these drawbacks, I bit the bullet and watched it.

To my complete surprise, I liked it. I notably enjoyed the Korean culture, in various dimensions. There were the visuals — images of Korea such as the tiled hanok roofs; black horsehair “gat” hats; and the Seoul skyline with N Seoul Tower in the distance. I liked the historical references to the king and his court, and the thrust of the story, including the demons — really "dokkaebi" or "gwishin." These are the ghosts in the stories, the things that make noises in the night — particularly in village life in days gone by — and the ever-present unknown lurking in the shadows. The dokkaebi are often playful and less malevolent, but they can cause troubles, especially for a bad person. The gwishin are seldom up to any good, and often need placating through Confucian or shaman ceremonies. In the movie there was no hint of shamanism or Confucianism deals with demons.

The idea of dokkaebi runs strong in old Korea. I have heard numerous stories about dokkaebi and I have heard countless confessions of people who are convinced there are such apparitions. To me, the thematics of the movie, although much more elaborate than the simple folk tales I’ve heard, are still a true Korean cultural value. In the villages of old Korea, I dare say almost everyone believed the stories of the dokkaebi.

The dokkaebi in Korea were sometimes mischievous and even helpful. That concept shows up in the movie. We didn’t see any playful demons, but the idea that some demons had a good side was clearly a feature of the movie.

Dokkaebi show up not only in folklore and folk beliefs, but they are canonized in literature. Several folk tales feature dokkaebi both as major figures in the story and as incidental figures as well. For example, in the Heungbu Nolbu story, after Heungbu fixes the broken leg of the swallow and it brings him a seed of good fortune, Nolbu, jealous of his younger brother, breaks the leg of a swallow, fixes it and waits for a lucky seed to plant. But as the story goes, the seed turns out to be evil and the gourd that grew from it, when opened, yielded dokkaebi to plague him.

There is also the story of the old man and the dokkaebi. In the story, an old man is befriended by a benevolent dokkaebi who provides him with food and treasures. A greedy friend tries to get in on the deal, but in the process insults the dokkaebi, for which he is given a bag of boils. There is a moral to the story — as there is to almost all Korean folktales — goodness is rewarded, and evil and greed are punished.

There is the story of the dokkaebi’s club, too. The club was acquired by a good-hearted man and it brought him good fortune. Predictably, a greedy neighbor steals the dokkaebi club, but it brings him only misfortune and grief. The moral of the tale is obvious.

Gwishin are a different matter. They only bring misfortune unless “fed” in ceremonies either of the Confucian (male) variety, or shamanist (female) variety. If you have misfortune, you can assume that one of your dead relatives is crying out for your attention. Respond and things will go well again. The image of “feeding” or “placating” spirits did not appear in the movie.

One other image that did appear was the magpie, and associated with the magpie was the tiger. This is a strong image captured in traditional Korean folk paintings. The little magpie is not afraid of the tiger, but can tease him willfully. The two really have a kind of playfulness about them, and that indeed, is the way they are treated in the movie.

Bottom line: Four stars. A fun movie, with clever handling of Korean imagery, worth seeing and worth listening to. The soundtrack may end up playing a greater role than the movie. In any case, it’s another great step forward for K-culture.

Mark Peterson (frogoutsidethewell@gmail.com) is a professor emeritus of Korean Studies at Brigham Young University in Utah. The views expressed here are his own.