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Adapted from a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this elusive yet refreshing drama centers on hotel employee Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives author from France Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the DMZ just north of the city of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Koya Kamura’s first feature also camps in a no man’s land of the spirit, with Sooha, abandoned by her French father while she was still unborn, caught between two cultures. After the francophone hostess is forced to chaperone the enigmatic author, she lingers uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and complex desire.

Daily Life and Upheaval

If not enjoying spectacular-looking seafood cooked by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her boyfriend (Gong Do-yu), an aspiring model aiming for a relocation to Seoul. But this comfy routine is overturned when the outsider takes up residence for a extended visit. Initially matching her biases about rude French men, he proves, after an online search, to be critically lauded comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Arriving in Sokcho in search of creative fuel, he manages to prise the story of Sooha’s absent parent from her. She spies on him through a vent – but it remains to be seen whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely.

Inner Turmoil and Thematic Depth

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in flashes of secret, sinuous moments of bodily suffocation and liberation. We witness only her inner life, though; Yan stays a remote presence, upholding his solitary principles and sparing with particulars of his history. His enigmatic role, as Sooha projects her needs on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness prevents Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Visual style – and restraint, with Sooha’s mother and partner both pushing cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a key theme for Kamura. But in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit separate from the main story, like the mysterious wrapped guest also in the guesthouse.

Acting and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the centre – an nearly aggressive Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-involved Park Mi-hyeon – give Winter in Sokcho its emotional anchor, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the cautious standoff between innkeeper and visitor, he is always on his toes in terms of feeling, often dipping into a tactile visual register. Fixating on absence, on the verge of drown in subjective feelings, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of contemporary phantom tale.

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