*This article contains spoilers for “KPop Demon Hunters.”
“KPop Demon Hunters” (Netflix)
Oh Minji: As the Netflix animated film “KPop Demon Hunters” opens, we learn about the girl group Huntrix and their secret mission: “The world will know you as pop stars, but you will be much more than that. You will be Hunters.” As exorcists, they unite people through music while protecting the world, creating a barrier called the Honmoon to expel demons and their leader, Gwi-Ma. Standing in the girl group’s way is newly debuted demon boy band the Saja Boys, and Huntrix faces them both onstage with their songs and offstage as Hunters. But hidden behind the glitz of idol life and the Hunters’ tough moves are their faults and fears. Rumi, the child of an exorcist mother and demon father who was born with the telltale patterns of a demon on her skin, feels her very existence is a mistake, but still believes her patterns will vanish completely once the Honmoon is fully sealed. Mira, long considered the black sheep of her family, hopes to meet someone who can understand her faults. Meanwhile, Zoey holds onto hope that her apparently worthless ideas and lyrics will have meaning someday. But the faults the girls hide ultimately become their downfall. As the audience cheers gloriously around them, Rumi’s patterns, which she’s kept hidden in shame her entire life, are exposed. With Mira and Zoey thrown into a fluster, Gwi-Ma takes advantage of the chaos and speaks directly to where they’re most vulnerable: “You thought you found a family? You don’t deserve one. You never have … You’re too much. And not enough. You’ll never belong anywhere.” After working restlessly to save everyone else’s souls from demons, the heroes of our story aren’t able to save themselves, and the Honmoon they thought would protect the world is left to fall apart.
“If this is the Honmoon I’m supposed to protect,” Rumi says after faltering with the barrier, “I’m glad to see it destroyed.” Celine, her adoptive mother, tells Rumi that she has to conceal all her faults and fears, including her patterns, until everything is back under control in order to protect the Honmoon. But for the first time, Rumi stands up to her. Rumi’s lived her whole life as a Hunter, bearing the same patterns as the demons she’s fought against, but now she takes control and consciously chooses to reveal her markings, breaking into song: “I broke into a million pieces / And I can’t go back / But now I’m seeing all the beauty / In the broken glass / The scars are part of me.” Here, Rumi evokes an image of kintsugi, the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold and making it even more beautiful in the process. Rather than trying to conceal what’s broken about her, she embraces her faults, turning them into a source of strength and beauty.
It turns out the faults she once feared would destroy her can’t harm her. Just when she thinks everything has fallen apart, the broken pieces make her even more brilliant than before. Rumi, both Hunter and demon, accepts her scars, acknowledging them as a “part of” her. Zoey learns to embrace “the colors stuck inside” her head, and Mira realizes that she doesn’t need to hide her “jagged edges” anymore. The songs that Huntrix once sang to protect others now become a source of personal strength as well, allowing them to banish Gwi-Ma and create a new Honmoon. They dream of protecting the world as themselves—where even though “we’re not heroes / We’re still survivors”—and of making the world one where they can stand up for themselves.
“Whole of Flower” (Suchmos)
Hwang Sunup (Music Critic): This is truly a triumphant return. Suchmos has made their long-awaited return into the world, recently holding concerts at Yokohama Area on June 21 and 22. So just who are these artists, you ask? They’re the innovators who brought Black music influences into the Japanese mainstream, helping J-pop shed its reputation as languishing from Galapagos syndrome. They more or less single-handedly returned music to its central place in popular culture following the decline of the Shibuya-kei trend. Evidence of just how much impact the band’s had can be seen in the wave of post-Suchmos acts—like Kroi, Ochunism, chilldspot, Billyrrom, and RIKONDENSETSU—that continued to emerge even four years after they went on hiatus in 2021.
Their single “Whole of Flower,” released in support of their new EP set to drop on July 2, feels like a cannon salute announcing their triumphant return. With a rhythm like lively footsteps and an improvisational feel borrowing from jazz, it’s clear even from one listen that the band’s pushing to embark in yet another new direction of genre fusion in their music. Having taken a step from the pressure of having to constantly prove themselves, Suchmos feels looser and more liberated. The question now is, what will the band’s next cultural revolution look like? With just one song, they’ve reaffirmed their influence. Not only can we expect them to continue to bloom, but they’re making a promise—one where they’ll bridge past and future to create never-before-seen music.
“The Extinction of Experience” (Christine Rosen)
Kim Boksung (Writer): It’s scary to think how most of us, in the back of our minds, know to some degree that technology can be bad for us, but that we still find it difficult, maybe unpalatable, perhaps even impossible, to look away from our screens. How do we strike a balance when the digital world can be so useful and fun?
“The Extinction of Experience” is a wake-up call for all of us. Author Christine Rosen warns us that our apps are making decisions for us, and while it’s convenient and even exciting, it takes away what makes each of us unique. Another word for that is humanity, and that includes some major things at stake, like having real conversations in real places that hold real meaning.
The details are even harder to swallow. The rise of conspiracy theories and online echo chambers are one thing, but could there be a darker side to too many TikTok challenges? To obsessing over your feeds? To too much mukbang? Rosen is sympathetic to the reader and doesn’t blame them for having fun, but cautions us to reconsider the value of sharing tastes with an algorithm instead of a friend.
Luckily, we don’t have to give up YouTube entirely. Just remember it’s okay to let yourself be bored sometimes—to suffer a minor inconvenience for increased attention span, more lively interpersonal connections, and more personal growth.