🔗 Share this article Winter in Sokcho Analysis: An Atmospheric Slow-Burn Story of Familial Bonds and Closeness in a South Korean Border City Inspired by a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Kim Bella) as she drives author from France 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 spirit, with Sooha, left behind by her French father while she was still in utero, trapped between two cultures. Once the francophone hostess is forced to accompany the enigmatic author, she lingers uneasily between strained companionship and complex desire. Daily Life and Upheaval If not enjoying visually stunning seafood 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 overturned when the foreigner takes up residence for a extended visit. At first conforming to her biases about rude French men, he proves, after an online search, to be acclaimed graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of inspiration, he succeeds in extract the story of Sooha’s absent parent from her. She spies on him through a vent – but the question lingers whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely. Emotional Landscape and Symbolic Layers Sooha’s subterranean feelings surface in bursts of clandestine, sinuous moments of physical constraint and release. We witness only her internal world, though; Yan remains a distant figure, insisting on his solitary principles and sparing with details of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha imposes her desires on to him, is deliberate – but this one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Aesthetic expression – and restraint, with Sooha’s mother and boyfriend both pushing plastic surgery on her – is evidently a central idea for Kamura. Yet in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit adjacent to the main story, like the mysterious wrapped guest also in the guesthouse. Performances and Directorial Approach The three focused performances at the centre – an almost hostile Zem, progressively unmoored Bella Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the cautious standoff between hotelier and guest, he is always on his toes in terms of feeling, often dipping into a physical, sensory imagery. Obsessing over absence, on the verge of succumb in subjective feelings, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of contemporary phantom tale. Winter in Sokcho is available on Mubi from 7 November.