🔗 Share this article Winter in Sokcho Analysis: An Atmospheric Slow-Burn Story of Familial Bonds and Intimacy in a South Korean Border City Based on the book by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Dusapin, this elusive yet refreshing drama centers on hotel employee Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives French writer Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the demilitarised zone just north of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Director Kamura's debut film also camps in a no man’s land of the soul, with Sooha, abandoned by her father from France while she was still unborn, trapped between dual heritages. Once the francophone hostess is forced to chaperone the mysterious author, she lingers uncomfortably between strained companionship and Oedipal attraction. Daily Life and Disruption When she’s not digging into spectacular-looking marine dishes prepared by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her partner (Do-yu Gong), an aspiring model aiming for a move to the capital. However this comfy routine is disrupted when the foreigner takes up residence for a extended visit. At first conforming to her prejudices about impolite Frenchmen, he proves, after an online search, 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 Symbolic Layers Sooha’s subterranean feelings erupt in flashes of clandestine, winding moments of bodily suffocation and release. We witness only her inner life, though; Yan stays a distant figure, insisting on his loner ethic and stingy with details of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha projects her desires on to him, is deliberate – but this one-sidedness prevents Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Aesthetic expression – and restraint, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both advocating plastic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. Yet despite Yan’s vocation, it feels a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the enigmatic wrapped guest also in residence. Performances and Cinematic Craft The trio of strong acts at the core – an nearly aggressive Roschdy Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the wary faceoff between innkeeper and guest, he is always on his toes emotionally speaking, often exploring a physical, sensory imagery. Obsessing over emptiness, on the verge of drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of contemporary phantom tale. Winter in Sokcho can be seen on Mubi from 7 November.