Sokcho in Winter Review: An Atmospheric Slow-Burn Story of Familial Bonds and Intimacy in a South Korean Border City

Adapted from a novel by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet refreshing drama centers on hotel employee Sooha (Kim Bella) as she drives author from France Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the demilitarised zone just north of the city of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s first feature also resides 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. Once the French-speaking employee is forced to chaperone the mysterious author, she loiters uneasily between strained companionship and complex desire.

Everyday Existence and Disruption

If not enjoying spectacular-looking marine dishes cooked by her mother who sells fish (Park Mi-hyeon), Sooha is lolling about with her boyfriend (Gong Do-yu), an aspiring model aiming for a relocation to Seoul. However this familiar rhythm is overturned when the outsider settles in for a long-term stay. Initially matching her prejudices 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 inspiration, he manages to prise the story of Sooha’s absent parent from her. She spies on him through a air duct – but the question lingers whether he’s a surrogate parent, or something else.

Emotional Landscape and Symbolic Layers

Sooha’s buried emotions erupt in flashes of secret, winding moments of physical constraint and release. We witness only her internal world, though; Yan remains a remote presence, upholding his solitary principles and sparing with details of his history. His enigmatic role, as Sooha projects her desires on to him, is deliberate – but this imbalance prevents Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Aesthetic expression – and control, with Sooha’s mother and boyfriend both pushing plastic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. Yet in spite of Yan’s vocation, it feels a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the mysterious bandaged diner also in residence.

Performances and Cinematic Craft

The three focused performances at the centre – an nearly aggressive Zem, progressively unmoored Bella Kim, and the self-involved Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite thematically corral the wary faceoff between innkeeper and visitor, he is consistently on his toes emotionally speaking, often dipping into a tactile visual register. Obsessing over absence, on the verge of succumb in subjective feelings, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of modern ghost story.

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