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Inspired by a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this elusive yet bracing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Kim Bella) as she drives French writer Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the DMZ just north of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Koya Kamura’s first feature also camps in a no man’s land of the spirit, with Sooha, left behind by her father from France while she was still in utero, caught between dual heritages. After the French-speaking employee is compelled to chaperone the enigmatic author, she lingers uncomfortably between strained companionship and Oedipal attraction.

Daily Life and Disruption

If not enjoying visually stunning seafood cooked by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her boyfriend (Do-yu Gong), an aspiring model gunning for a relocation to the capital. But this comfy routine is disrupted when the outsider settles in for a extended visit. Initially conforming to her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he turns out, on Googling him, to be acclaimed comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Arriving in Sokcho in pursuit of inspiration, he succeeds in prise the story of Sooha’s missing father from her. She spies on him through a vent – but the question lingers whether he’s a proxy father, or something else.

Inner Turmoil and Symbolic Layers

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in flashes of secret, sinuous moments of physical constraint and liberation. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan stays a remote presence, upholding his loner ethic and sparing with particulars of his past. His cipher status, as Sooha projects her desires on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Aesthetic expression – and control, with Sooha’s parent and partner both pushing cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a key theme for Kamura. But despite Yan’s profession, it feels a bit adjacent to the main story, like the enigmatic wrapped guest also in residence.

Performances and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the core – an nearly aggressive Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-involved 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. Fixating on absence, on the verge of drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an intriguing kind of contemporary phantom tale.

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