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Adapted from a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives author from France Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the DMZ just north of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s first feature also resides in a liminal space of the soul, with Sooha, left behind by her father from France while she was still unborn, trapped between two cultures. Once the francophone hostess is forced to accompany the mysterious author, she lingers uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and complex desire.

Daily Life and Disruption

When she’s not digging into spectacular-looking marine dishes prepared by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her partner (Do-yu Gong), an aspiring model aiming for a relocation to Seoul. But this familiar rhythm is disrupted when the outsider takes up residence for a extended visit. Initially matching her prejudices about rude French men, he turns out, after an online search, to be acclaimed comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in search of inspiration, he manages to extract the account of Sooha’s missing father from her. She observes him through a air duct – but the question lingers whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely.

Inner Turmoil and Thematic Depth

Sooha’s buried emotions erupt in bursts of secret, sinuous moments of bodily suffocation and release. We witness only her internal world, though; Yan remains a remote presence, upholding his loner ethic and stingy with particulars of his history. His enigmatic role, as Sooha projects her desires on to him, is intentional – but this imbalance hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Aesthetic expression – and control, with Sooha’s mother and partner both advocating cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a key theme for Kamura. Yet in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit adjacent to the main story, like the enigmatic bandaged diner also in residence.

Performances and Cinematic Craft

The trio of strong acts at the centre – an nearly aggressive Roschdy Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – give Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the wary faceoff between innkeeper and visitor, he is always on his toes emotionally speaking, often exploring a tactile visual register. Fixating on absence, threatening to drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of contemporary phantom tale.

The film can be seen on Mubi from 7 November.