A lesson in licensing: Sony made a hit, but Netflix made a killing.
Welcome to the Alts Sunday Edition 👋
Hope you enjoyed last week’s issue on how two friends brought cricket cards to life.
(There’s a big first-of-its-kind Cricket Convention in the Bay Area in October. Check it out if you’re “cricket curious”.)
Today we’re back in the world of K-pop once again. Sort of.
(I know what you’re thinking… K-pop again? Really Stefan??)
Yes. Really. But stick with me, because there are a few very good reasons why.
First, K‑Pop Demon Hunters just became the most-watched film in Netflix history. That alone is worth analyzing.
Second, the timing around our own K-pop investment could not have been more perfect. We have $4.5 million in investor interest, (the second-highest amount for any deal we’ve ever done), and the group we’re investing in was just featured in the Wall Street Journal.
And third, we’re now learning more about how Sony structured the deal with Netflix, and it’s not pretty. Behind the film’s viral success is a huge, surprising misstep from Sony.
Despite producing the film, Sony gave up full ownership — including streaming rights, merchandising, and sequels — and walked away with just a flat $20 million. Netflix got everything else.
How did that happen? And why would a major studio sign away such a valuable property?
To unpack the anatomy of this deal, we sat down with Kayden Phoenix, an IP strategist who’s built her entire creative career around ownership and licensing.
Kayden breaks down what Sony gave up, what they could’ve done differently, and what every company in the content business should be thinking about right now.
Let’s go 👇
Table of Contents
Who is Kayden Phoenix?
Kayden Phoenix is a filmmaker turned comic creator turned IP licensor.
She’s the mind behind A LA BRAVA, the first all-Latina superhero team in comic book history, and a rising voice in the world of independent intellectual property.
She’s also a new Alts community member. (Don’t be shy, come say hi!)
Her path into comics wasn’t exactly traditional. In fact, she wasn’t even a comics reader growing up. She came from film.
But when she shot a short film (watch it here, password = phoenix) based on one of her superhero scripts and used it as a sizzle reel to pitch the project, the feedback was surprisingly consistent: turn this into a comic.
“Everyone thought it was a comic book. And I was like, okay, fine, it’s a comic book! So I had to research this whole world. I tried my best to break it down. I did my version of it. And this is what I came out with.”
Her first comic was Jalisco, a blade-wielding folklórico dancer taking on femicide in Mexico.
That first book led to an unexpected break. Just before the pandemic hit, she was invited to exhibit at L.A. Comic Con — despite having only one comic. They gave her a free table and a press push, and things started to take off.
“I got invited to L.A. Comic Con, free table. I got a little bit of press for just having one comic at the time. And I was like, okay great! This works!”
When COVID shut down in-person events, she shifted gears and got to work on the rest of her lineup. She finished building out her five-character superhero team while comic cons were paused, using Kickstarter and Zoom to collaborate with her artists.
Kayden also launched Princess Academia (an all-ages universe of princess adventures) and .357 Magnum Opus (an adult-focused, assassin-themed series).
All of it is hers. She works with designers and artists under strict work-for-hire agreements, meaning she doesn’t just create the characters — she owns the IP.
“This is work for hire. I pay the designer up front, so I own all the rights. No matter how successful it is, they get paid. They go their merry way, and it’s my job to take it to the next level.”
Work-for-hire is the same model we discussed in our deep dive on Pop Mart, where a Chinese designer was paid a one-time fee to create the Labubu designs, while the company retained full merchandising rights.
By designing her deals this way from the outset, Kayden retains full ownership of the creative output and has the freedom to license her characters, stories, and brand into anything she wants.
The world of licensing
Kayden’s long-term vision is to license each of these worlds into animation, toys, games, and, most importantly, film and television.
“My whole thing is: get it on screen. That’s still my thing. Whether it’s mine or anybody else’s, I want to see these superheroes on screen.” Once you create these worlds and these characters that people connect with, licensing becomes the bridge to film, animation, and toys.”
But none of it happens unless the terms are right.
Kayden keeps the scope of each license tightly defined. For example, her publishing partners (Andrews McMeel: Calvin & Hobbes, The Far Side), get access to digital and audiobook rights — but not film, merchandise, or ability to commission derivative works.
Every cover, every word change requires her approval.
“They can’t create new art from it. I have the last say. I have full creative control, with last approval. They live within whatever they license.”
The difference between ownership and licensing comes into sharper focus when big companies get involved.
She’s had big comic book publishers like IDW and Dark Horse express serious interest, but only if they could acquire full film and TV rights.
That’s the point where lots of people would pull the trigger.
But Kayden turned them all down.
“I did all this work myself. I paid for the artists. I paid for the publishing. I’m here at the comic cons, doing my little song and dance. I want my film and TV rights, because I’m going to take it to whichever studio in the future.”
In our Business of Fonts issue, type designer John Roshell described how revenue from fonts is typically generated. He sells his creations to companies/platforms who control the licensing agreements, and gets royalty checks when they’re purchased.
(This is why John didn’t realize that the Superman movie used his font until after the movie came out)
But Kayden doesn’t sell her characters — she licenses them herself.
She does so in narrow, time-bound windows — and always with a path to reclaim rights later. It’s how she retains control over her work while scaling her reach.
“Term limit is something that I really care about… In X amount of years, I get this back, and by then I can re-license or re-option it to someone else for a bigger amount. If I get to carve out backend points or creative influence, even better.”
And while Kayden’s comics remain the foundation of her IP portfolio, she’s actively prototyping extensions into other product categories — including board games, clothing, costumes, and even music.
How Sony gave it all away
K-pop Demon Hunters is a global hit. It’s stylish, funny, well-scored, and wildly rewatchable. As of this week, it’s officially the most-watched film in Netflix history.
But incredibly, Sony Pictures Animation, the studio behind it, won’t see a dime beyond the $20 million they were paid.
What was the deal?
In 2021, Sony Pictures Animation entered into a sweeping direct-to-platform deal with Netflix.
Under the terms, Netflix agreed to pay the entire production budget for a slate of films — including K-pop Demon Hunters — and in return, would acquire all downstream rights.
Sony would receive a flat fee, capped at $20m per title, with no backend participation, regardless of how successful the film became.
Kayden explains:
“Netflix paid the production budget, which at that time was $100 million, and then they get a $20 million cap on top of that. So that’s the max that Sony will make. And Netflix owns everything. That was all in the agreement.”
This wasn’t a case of Sony producing a finished film and shopping it around. Netflix funded development up front, giving Sony a guaranteed payout while assuming the risk of distribution.
But as Twisted Voxel has reported, the agreement also gave Netflix full control — including sequels, merchandising, live shows, international rights, and spin-offs.
Interestingly, Netflix has done this before with another Korean cultural juggernaut: Squid Game.
The show’s creator, Hwang Dong-hyuk, forfeited his intellectual property rights to Netflix. Squid Game is now the most-watched show in Netflix history, while Hwang Dong-hyuk lost nine teeth while creating the series and couldn’t afford the dental work.
Why did Sony agree to this?
At the time, this may have felt like the safest move.
Remember that back in early 2021, theatrical releases were shaky in the wake of COVID. Audiences hadn’t yet returned to cinemas, studios were sitting on unreleased slates, and streaming was the only growth channel with predictable cash flow.
Netflix’s content appetite was growing fast, and they offered easy money. For Sony, locking in a guaranteed return may have looked prudent. They took the quick payout and handed over the long-term upside.
Still, in Kayden’s view, that’s no excuse.
“I disagree with the idea that this was a good deal. If it was live action, sure — take the money and run. But animation features? Historically, these are billion-dollar plays. Look at Into the Spider-Verse. Look at The Mitchells vs. The Machines. Animation sells.”
She pointed out that Sony Pictures Animation had every reason to bet on itself. With a proven track record and a unique visual style that blends 2D and 3D elements, Sony was far from desperate.
“If you’re someone like Sony Pictures Animation, you should know better. Based on your work, based on your power, you should know that your stuff sells. You could have waited and put this one through theaters yourself if you really believed in it.”
What could Sony have done instead?
The simplest fix would have been a co-production structure — a model where both parties contribute budget and split profits, rights, and decisions.
That’s what Sony should have fought for, Kayden argues.
“As a co-pro, you’re equal on the back end. If you structure it right, you can carve out regional rights. You can carve out sequels, prequels, live action.”
These carve-outs matter. Even if Netflix insisted on owning global streaming rights, Sony could have retained theatrical windows, merchandise rights, or sequel controls in key regions. That’s especially relevant given the film’s cultural specificity and likely global appeal.
“Sing-alongs, spinoffs, localization — those are new productions. That could have been a 50/50 co-pro. They both pay into it, they both take a percentage out. But Sony didn’t leave room for that. Netflix owns it all now.”
Ultimately, Kayden sees it as a failure of vision. Sony made a safe bet when they should’ve played offense.
“It’s industry standard, unfortunately. That’s the sad part. But it didn’t have to be. They had leverage. And they gave it up.”
The misunderstood world of IP
Most creators think they’re protected once their work exists. But intellectual property law is full of blind spots. And most people don’t realize what they are until it’s too late.
The confusion usually starts with a misunderstanding of what the core protections even do. A quick recap:
- A copyright protects creative expression.
- A trademark protects branding.
- A patent protects invention.
Kayden’s work sits in the first two. Her stories and characters are covered by copyright, but her logos, titles, and designs require trademarking — something she had to figure out mid-flight.
“Copyright doesn’t actually mean that much, because you cannot copyright an idea. If I create a folklórico dancer who has blades that come out of her dress, someone can change the color of her dress, change the location, and I can’t sue them unless I can prove they saw my script.”
Trademarks, however, are another story. A trademark can protect images and names, but only if filed correctly, in the right category, and actively enforced. That’s not something most indie creators are prepared to do. And enforcement? That’s on you. There’s no IP police.
“Trademark costs so much more, but it protects you from every little thing. The word. The image. If you make up a new word, don’t copyright it, trademark it. But remember that if someone does steal your character or logo, you start with a cease and desist. prove it.”
In Kayden’s case, the lesson was to flip the process: structure deals preemptively so there’s nothing left to violate. Limit the license. Keep the rights. Avoid ambiguity.
And she applies that same logic to her view on AI. While many creators see it as a threat, she sees a production shortcut. If it helps speed up development while she still owns the IP, she’s in.
“I’m all for ethical AI. You still need the writer, you still need the character designer, you still need post and sound. But you don’t need four or five years like K-pop Demon Hunters did. You can do it in months.”
Closing thoughts
K‑pop Demon Hunters has exploded — not just for its style or K-pop energy, but because of how its IP was structured. Netflix now has full control, while Sony gets only a capped $20 million return.
Meanwhile, Disney finds itself in a different kind of scramble. Despite owning massive franchises like Marvel and Star Wars (originally acquired to attract a young male audience), the studio is now actively pursuing new IP to win back Gen Z men.
Recent reporting reveals that Walt Disney Studios is asking for original movie concepts, like treasure hunts and seasonal adventures, to engage 13–28-year-old males in ways that the MCU no longer does.
K‑pop Demon Hunters is a textbook case of how the value lies not just in what’s created — it lies in who owns it, how it’s licensed, and who benefits if & when success arrives.
“This is all a huge reminder to own your rights, license strategically, and be ready for the long game.”
—
That’s a wrap! 🎬
A huge thanks to Kayden Phoenix for lending her time for this issue.
I can’t wait to see her Latina Superheroes on screen someday.
In the meantime you can follow her on Instagram and say hi in the Alts Community.
See you next time, Stefan
Disclosures
- This issue was written by Stefan von Imhof, with editing help from Kayden Phoenix
- As of today, Altea has no holdings in any companies mentioned in this issue
- We are opening an SPV to invest in a group featured on the K-pop Demon Hunters soundtrack
- I am personally planning to invest in this vehicle
- This issue was sponsored by Heron Finance
- This issue contains no affiliate links.
