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Based on a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives French writer Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the DMZ just north of the city of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s first feature also resides in a liminal space of the spirit, with Sooha, left behind by her French father while she was still unborn, caught between dual heritages. After the French-speaking employee is forced to accompany the mysterious author, she lingers uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and Oedipal attraction.

Everyday Existence and Disruption

When she’s not digging into spectacular-looking marine dishes cooked by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her partner (Gong Do-yu), an hopeful model aiming for a relocation to the capital. However this familiar rhythm is disrupted when the foreigner takes up residence for a extended visit. Initially matching her biases about rude French men, he proves, after an online search, to be acclaimed comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in search of creative fuel, he manages to prise the account of Sooha’s missing father from her. She spies on him through a air duct – but the question lingers whether he’s a surrogate parent, or something else.

Emotional Landscape and Thematic Depth

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in flashes of secret, sinuous moments of physical constraint and release. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan stays a distant figure, upholding his loner ethic and stingy with details of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha projects her needs on to him, is intentional – but this imbalance hinders Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Visual style – and restraint, with Sooha’s parent and partner both pushing cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. But in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit adjacent to the primary narrative, like the enigmatic bandaged diner also in the guesthouse.

Performances and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the centre – an almost hostile Roschdy Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-absorbed Park Mi-hyeon – give Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite thematically corral the cautious standoff between hotelier and visitor, he is always on his toes in terms of feeling, often exploring a physical, sensory imagery. Obsessing over emptiness, threatening to drown in internal sensations, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of contemporary phantom tale.

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