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Based on the book by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this subtle yet refreshing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she escorts French writer Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the DMZ just north of the city of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s first feature also resides in a no man’s land of the soul, with Sooha, left behind by her French father while she was still unborn, caught between dual heritages. Once the French-speaking employee is forced to chaperone the mysterious author, she loiters uneasily between strained companionship and complex desire.

Everyday Existence and Upheaval

If not enjoying visually stunning marine dishes prepared by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her boyfriend (Gong Do-yu), an aspiring model gunning for a relocation to Seoul. But this familiar rhythm is disrupted when the outsider settles in for a extended visit. Initially matching her biases about rude French men, he proves, on Googling him, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Arriving in Sokcho in search of creative fuel, he manages to prise the story of Sooha’s missing father from her. She observes him through a vent – but it remains to be seen whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely.

Inner Turmoil and Symbolic Layers

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in bursts of secret, sinuous moments of physical constraint and release. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan stays a remote presence, insisting on his solitary principles and stingy with details of his past. His cipher status, as Sooha imposes her desires on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Visual style – and control, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both pushing plastic surgery on her – is clearly a key theme for Kamura. Yet despite Yan’s profession, it seems a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the enigmatic wrapped guest also in residence.

Performances and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the core – an nearly aggressive Roschdy Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-involved Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite thematically corral the wary faceoff between innkeeper and visitor, he is always on his toes emotionally speaking, often dipping into a physical, sensory imagery. Obsessing over emptiness, threatening to succumb in subjective feelings, Kamura musters an fascinating kind of modern ghost story.

The film can be seen on the streaming service from November 7.