🔗 Share this article Sokcho in Winter Analysis: A Moody Slow-Burning Tale of Family and Closeness in a South Korean Frontier Town Inspired by the book by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives author from France Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the demilitarised zone just north of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s debut film also camps in a no man’s land of the spirit, with Sooha, abandoned by her father from France while she was still unborn, caught between dual heritages. Once the French-speaking employee is compelled to chaperone the enigmatic author, she lingers uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and Oedipal attraction. Everyday Existence and Disruption When she’s not digging into visually stunning marine dishes cooked by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is lolling about with her boyfriend (Gong Do-yu), an hopeful model aiming for a move to Seoul. But this familiar rhythm is disrupted when the foreigner settles in for a extended visit. Initially matching her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he turns out, after an online search, to be acclaimed comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of inspiration, he manages to extract the account of Sooha’s absent parent from her. She spies on him through a air duct – but it remains to be seen whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely. Emotional Landscape and Thematic Depth Sooha’s buried emotions erupt in flashes of clandestine, sinuous moments of physical constraint and release. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan remains a remote presence, insisting on his solitary principles and sparing with particulars of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha imposes her desires on to him, is deliberate – but this imbalance hinders Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Aesthetic expression – and control, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both advocating cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. Yet in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the mysterious bandaged diner also in the guesthouse. Acting and Cinematic Craft The three focused performances at the centre – an almost hostile Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-involved Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its emotional anchor, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the wary faceoff between hotelier and visitor, he is always on his toes emotionally speaking, often exploring a tactile visual register. Obsessing over emptiness, on the verge of succumb in internal sensations, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of modern ghost story. The film can be seen on the streaming service from 7 November.