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Inspired by a novel by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet refreshing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives author from France Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the DMZ just north of the city of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Director Kamura's debut film also resides in a no man’s land of the soul, with Sooha, left behind by her French father while she was still unborn, trapped between dual heritages. Once the French-speaking employee is forced to chaperone the mysterious author, she lingers uncomfortably between strained companionship and complex desire.

Everyday Existence and Disruption

If not enjoying spectacular-looking marine dishes prepared by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is lolling about with her boyfriend (Gong Do-yu), an hopeful model gunning for a move to Seoul. But this comfy routine is disrupted when the foreigner takes up residence for a long-term stay. At first matching her prejudices about rude French men, he turns out, on Googling him, to be critically lauded 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 spies on him through a vent – but it remains to be seen whether he’s a surrogate parent, or something else.

Inner Turmoil and Symbolic Layers

Sooha’s buried emotions erupt in bursts of secret, sinuous moments of physical constraint and liberation. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan remains a remote presence, upholding his solitary principles and stingy with particulars of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha projects her desires on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Aesthetic expression – and control, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both advocating plastic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. Yet in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit adjacent to the primary narrative, like the mysterious wrapped guest also in the guesthouse.

Acting and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the centre – an nearly aggressive 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 cautious standoff between hotelier and visitor, he is consistently on his toes in terms of feeling, often exploring a tactile visual register. Obsessing over absence, threatening to succumb in internal sensations, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of modern ghost story.

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