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Based on the book by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet refreshing film centers on hotel employee Sooha (Bella Kim) as she escorts author from France Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the demilitarised zone just north of the city of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Director Kamura's first feature also resides in a no man’s land of the soul, with Sooha, left behind by her father from France while she was still in utero, caught between dual heritages. Once the francophone hostess is forced to accompany the mysterious author, she loiters uneasily between tetchy friendship and complex desire.

Everyday Existence and Upheaval

If not enjoying visually stunning marine dishes cooked by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is lolling about with her partner (Gong Do-yu), an hopeful model gunning for a move to Seoul. But this comfy routine is overturned when the foreigner settles in for a extended visit. At first matching her prejudices about impolite Frenchmen, he proves, on Googling him, to be acclaimed comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of creative fuel, he succeeds in extract the account of Sooha’s absent parent 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 surface in flashes of secret, winding moments of physical constraint and liberation. We are privy to only her internal world, though; Yan stays a remote presence, insisting on his loner ethic and stingy with particulars of his past. His cipher status, as Sooha projects her needs on to him, is intentional – but this imbalance hinders Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Visual style – and control, with Sooha’s mother and partner both pushing cosmetic surgery on her – is evidently a central idea for Kamura. Yet despite Yan’s profession, it feels a bit adjacent to the main story, like the enigmatic wrapped guest also in residence.

Acting and Cinematic Craft

The three focused performances at the core – an almost hostile Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its emotional anchor, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the cautious standoff between innkeeper and guest, he is consistently on his toes in terms of feeling, often exploring a tactile visual register. Fixating on absence, threatening to succumb in subjective feelings, Kamura musters an intriguing kind of modern ghost story.

Winter in Sokcho is available on Mubi from 7 November.