My daughters are obsessed (my son is unimpressed).
If you are a parent of elementary school girls, you have most likely witnessed the social contagion that is K-Pop Demon Hunters. And while the name of the movie alone earned an automatic “no” the first few times my daughters begged me to let them watch it, I finally gave in. But, I made sure to sit and watch it with them—ready to pull the plug the second anything age-inappropriate popped up.
Yet, to my surprise, not only was I quickly pulled into the story but, by the end of it, I was an enthusiastic advocate of the movie. What excited me the most was that I realized the movie was full of themes that could easily be related to elements of the Islamic spiritual path, and that, in fact, I could use the film to teach my daughters about the greater jihad—the battle against one’s own self. So, here I will elaborate on some of the spiritual themes of K-pop Demon Hunters that you can bring up with your kids as they sing and play the songs on repeat.
First, a few important disclaimers:
One, this article contains a lot of spoilers. So don’t read it if you haven’t seen it–unless of course, you don’t mind.
Two, while the movie contains some Islamic themes, there are a few elements that some Muslim parents might find objectionable. One, of course, is that the movie revolves around pop-singers—so there is a lot of music throughout. Additionally, the characters at times wear clothing that would be considered immodest by Islamic standards. And there are a few parts where the characters develop crushes and romantic feelings toward other characters. If these are deal breakers, I would say just don’t watch the movie. Or at the very least, watch the movie ahead of time, make note of where those parts occur, and skip over them as needed.
However, if you are willing to overlook these elements, there are some great connections to make to the Muslim path.
Of Shayateen and Nafs al Ammara
First, let’s frame the basic story. In the world of the film, demons have always haunted the world, stealing souls and channeling them back to their king, Gwi-Ma. The trio that is Huntrix belongs to an ancient lineage of demon hunters who, along with being warriors, use songs of hope and courage that ignite their people’s souls, bring them together, and create a shield that protects the world from darkness, the Honmoon.
Obviously, the idea of a demonic realm is easy enough to connect with the Islamic worldview. The world is full of shayateen who lay in wait, using every opportunity available to lead us astray from Allah’s 
path. Gwi-Ma represents Iblis, while his demon army symbolizes the many human and jinn shayateen who work to lead us astray. It is tradition that protects us from this. Our tradition also strives to preserve lineage–the various Islamic sciences and the various Sufi Tariqas that are protected by chains of transmission that lead all the way back to the Prophet Muhammad 
. We also use sacred sound to sanctify the world around us. Whether through recitation of the Quran or through dhikr, we employ our vocal chords to bring noor into the world. The angels hear our adhkar and fill the ether around us and expel the satanic forces of Iblis’s army.
Then there’s Rumi (whose Korean name means “sparkling beauty,” but is conveniently a homonym of the most famous Sufi poet in the world). As the Honmoon seems close to being sealed up for good, Rumi rushes to release Huntrix’s greatest single, “Golden.” The song is a celebration of arriving at self-realization with the refrain, “I’m done hiding. Now I’m shining like I’m born to be.” And yet it is on this line that Rumi’s voice strains. You see, Rumi has a secret: she is half-demon. She struggles to hide her demon patterns. Hoping that she can conceal them just long enough to seal the Honmoon for good, which will then rid her of the patterns.
We see a parallel to this in the Islamic concept of the Nafs al Ammara, the darkest—and most illusory—aspects of ourselves. This, our appetitive soul, manifests as patterns of behavior in our day-to-day—tendencies toward selfishness, arrogance, and avarice.
Self-Appraisal and the Case Against Extremism
Then enter the Saja Boys–a group of demons disguised as a boy band that threatens to steal Huntrix’s fans so that their souls can be given to Gwi-Ma. In other words, the lesser jihad against the legions of shayateen wages on in the world around us. It is an “externalization of the destitution of the inner state of the soul of that of humanity,”1, which manifests in the global atrocities and ecological crises we witness daily. Even as we face our own internal issues.
In fact, this even gives rise to new issues as the girls become infatuated with them—each lusting after a boy that meets their particular taste—and they lash out with their own form of religious extremism. The “Take Down” track they compose as a response is a representation of religious fanaticism—denouncing the demons, vowing to kill them all off, claiming there is no potential salvation for any of them. It is a counter-example to the Prophet Muhammad’s warning, “Beware of extremism in religion. Those who came before you were ruined by extremism in religion.”
In secret, Rumi is meeting with Jinu, the head Saja Boy, developing some empathy for the demon, and seeing herself in his story. She begins to see that underneath, he is not as bad as the mistakes he has made. In this, Rumi is starting to come to terms with her own demonic aspects. She can empathize with Jinu. In this way, he becomes a sort of mirror for her ( an analogy often applied for companions on the spiritual path—that we help each other to our own faults). Then, at her bottom, after Jinu double-crosses her and exposes her to her bandmates, Rumi decides that if she is going to save the world, it has to begin with recognizing her demonic patterns, not hiding them and pretending they don’t exist, and harmonizing these two aspects of herself. This could be likened to the nafs al-lawwama—self-accusing soul, with its characteristics of disapproval, reflection, contraction, and self-appraisal. It denotes the active conscience stricken by guilt and self-reproach whenever God’s commands are violated and the lower self wins a skirmish with the rational mind.
Idol Worship and Spiritual Warfare
Rumi’s spiritual journey culminates at the Saja Boys’ final concert. They open their set with the song, “I’ll be your idol,” a song that, with lyrics like, “keeping you obsessed…I can be your sanctuary” and “I can be the star you rely on…Your obsession feeds our connection…give me all of your attention,” could not be a better fit with Islamic admonitions of idol worship—both external idols and the inner idols of our own desires, and the ways obsession with pop culture can take the place of an idol in our lives.
When Rumi arrives to sing her final song, she is only able to sing a song strong enough to defeat the dark forces of the world when she acknowledges her own demonic patterns, her nafs ammara, and harmonizes them with the higher aspects of herself—the purity of her fitra. And yet, in acknowledging them, she is able to keep them from taking her over. In this, she has achieved the nafs al mutma’ina, the satisfied soul.
In the Islamic tradition, spiritual mastery is not achieved by eliminating the nafs al ammara, but rather by surrendering it to the higher self. In other words, the nafs al mutama’ina is one that can direct its nafs ammara towards actions that serve it in the spiritual warfare against the demonic aspects of the dunya—our worldly life. For one whose soul is at peace, the lower aspects are still there but are in perfect balance.
Rumi uses her balanced soul to break the demons’ hold on their fans and to defeat Gwi-Ma’s army for good.
Navigating Pop Culture Through An Islamic Lens
In the end, this is just a movie. It is for entertainment and, of course, is no substitute for the formal study of the deen. At the same time, as Muslim parents, we are constantly trying to help our children navigate their relationship with pop culture. Our kids are constantly being introduced to new creative media through their friends (yes, even in Islamic schools), through billboards, commercials, and elsewhere. And while we often respond by trying to control what they come in contact with, it often feels like a lost cause–things just slip through. This doesn’t mean we have to adopt an “anything goes” approach, but perhaps we can also find opportunities to connect the morals and lessons conveyed through the entertainment we consume to our own Islamic values. In doing so, we can model for our kids how to consume entertainment while maintaining taqwa.
For example, with K-Pop Demon Hunters, when we sit down and watch it with them, we can vocalize the elements that are at odds with our value system (for example commenting, “I wish this character was wearing more modest clothing,” or, “Uh oh, I don’t think it’s appropriate for her to go and meet a boy on her own.”) However, we can also tap into their enthusiasm and make connections to our religious values (for example, “Wow, that really teaches us that idols aren’t always just statues, but can be anything we devote all our attention to and rely on.”)
In this way, we can teach our kids how to engage with entertainment with the tools to discern which messages resonate with Islamic values and which ones don’t, whether or not we are there to shield them from it.
In a world flooded with sound and spectacle, that kind of vision is the real superpower.
Related:
– Don’t Look Up – A Faith-Centred Parable Of Our Times
– Muslim Kids Reading Fantasy Novels – Yea Or Nay?
1 Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Man and Nature: the Spiritual Crisis of Modern Man (Boston: Unwin Paperbacks, 1990), 3.
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