🔗 Share this article

Adapted from the book by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Kim Bella) as she escorts French writer Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the DMZ just north of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Director Kamura's debut film also camps in a no man’s land of the soul, with Sooha, left behind by her French father while she was still in utero, trapped between dual heritages. After the francophone hostess is compelled to accompany the enigmatic author, she loiters uncomfortably between strained companionship and Oedipal attraction.

Everyday Existence and Upheaval

When she’s not digging into spectacular-looking marine dishes cooked by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is lolling about with her partner (Gong Do-yu), an aspiring model aiming for a relocation to the capital. But this comfy routine is disrupted when the outsider settles in for a long-term stay. Initially matching her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he proves, on Googling him, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of creative fuel, he manages to prise the account of Sooha’s absent parent from her. She spies on him through a air duct – but the question lingers whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely.

Emotional Landscape and Thematic Depth

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in flashes of clandestine, sinuous moments of physical constraint and release. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan remains a distant figure, insisting on his solitary principles and sparing with particulars of his past. His cipher status, as Sooha imposes her needs on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness prevents Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Visual style – and restraint, with Sooha’s mother and partner both advocating cosmetic surgery on her – is evidently a central idea for Kamura. But in spite of Yan’s vocation, it seems a bit separate from the main story, like the mysterious bandaged diner also in residence.

Performances and Cinematic Craft

The three focused performances at the core – an almost hostile Roschdy Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – give Winter in Sokcho its emotional anchor, and if Kamura can’t quite thematically corral the wary faceoff between innkeeper and visitor, he is consistently on his toes in terms of feeling, often dipping into a tactile visual register. Obsessing over absence, threatening to drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of modern ghost story.

The film is available on the streaming service from November 7.