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Inspired by the book by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this elusive yet bracing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives French writer Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the DMZ just north of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s debut film also camps in a liminal space of the soul, with Sooha, left behind by her father from France while she was still in utero, trapped between dual heritages. Once the French-speaking employee is compelled to chaperone the enigmatic author, she lingers uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and Oedipal attraction.

Daily Life and Upheaval

If not enjoying visually stunning seafood cooked by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is lolling about with her partner (Do-yu Gong), an hopeful model aiming for a relocation to the capital. But this comfy routine is overturned when the foreigner settles in for a extended visit. At first matching her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he proves, on Googling him, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of creative fuel, he succeeds in prise 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 something else.

Inner Turmoil and Thematic Depth

Sooha’s subterranean feelings erupt in flashes of clandestine, winding moments of physical constraint and release. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan remains a remote presence, upholding his loner ethic and sparing with details of his past. His enigmatic role, as Sooha projects her needs on to him, is intentional – but this imbalance hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Visual style – and control, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both advocating plastic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. But despite Yan’s vocation, it seems a bit adjacent to the primary narrative, like the enigmatic bandaged diner also in residence.

Performances and Directorial Approach

The trio of strong acts at the centre – an nearly aggressive Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura doesn't fully narratively contain the wary faceoff between innkeeper and visitor, he is always on his toes in terms of feeling, often exploring a physical, sensory imagery. Fixating on emptiness, on the verge of drown in internal sensations, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of modern ghost story.

The film is available on Mubi from 7 November.