🔗 Share this article Sokcho in Winter Analysis: A Moody Slow-Burn Tale of Familial Bonds and Intimacy in a Korean Frontier Town Adapted from a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Dusapin, this elusive yet refreshing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives author from France Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the DMZ just north of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Koya Kamura’s first feature also camps in a liminal space of the spirit, with Sooha, abandoned by her French father while she was still in utero, caught between two cultures. Once the French-speaking employee is compelled to accompany the mysterious author, she loiters uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and complex desire. Daily Life and Disruption When she’s not digging into spectacular-looking seafood prepared by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her boyfriend (Gong Do-yu), an aspiring model gunning for a relocation to the capital. However this comfy routine is disrupted when the outsider settles in for a long-term stay. At first conforming to her prejudices about rude French men, he turns out, on Googling him, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Arriving in Sokcho in pursuit of creative fuel, he manages to prise the story of Sooha’s missing father from her. She observes him through a vent – but the question lingers whether he’s a surrogate parent, or another figure entirely. Inner Turmoil and Thematic Depth Sooha’s buried emotions erupt in bursts of secret, sinuous moments of bodily suffocation and liberation. We witness only her inner life, though; Yan stays a remote presence, insisting on his solitary principles and sparing with details of his past. His enigmatic role, as Sooha imposes her needs on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Aesthetic expression – and restraint, with Sooha’s parent and partner both advocating cosmetic surgery on her – is evidently a key theme for Kamura. But in spite of Yan’s profession, it seems a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the mysterious bandaged diner also in residence. Acting and Cinematic Craft The three focused performances at the centre – an almost hostile Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-absorbed 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 consistently on his toes in terms of feeling, often exploring a physical, sensory imagery. Fixating on absence, threatening to succumb in internal sensations, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of modern ghost story. The film is available on Mubi from 7 November.