Winter in Sokcho Review: A Moody Slow-Burn Story of Familial Bonds and Closeness in a South Korean Border City
Based on the book by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet refreshing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives French writer Yan (Roschdy Zem) to the demilitarised zone just north of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s first feature also resides in a liminal space of the spirit, with Sooha, left behind by her French father while she was still in utero, trapped between dual heritages. Once the francophone hostess is forced to accompany the mysterious author, she loiters uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and complex desire.
Everyday Existence and Upheaval
If not enjoying spectacular-looking marine dishes cooked by her fishmonger mother (Park Mi-hyeon), Sooha is lolling about with her partner (Do-yu Gong), an hopeful model gunning for a relocation to the capital. However this comfy routine is disrupted when the outsider takes up residence for a extended visit. Initially matching her prejudices about rude French men, he proves, after an online search, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in search of inspiration, he manages to prise the story of Sooha’s missing father from her. She observes him through a air duct – but the question lingers whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely.
Inner Turmoil and Thematic Depth
Sooha’s buried emotions erupt in flashes of secret, winding moments of physical constraint and liberation. We are privy to only her internal world, though; Yan remains a distant figure, insisting on his solitary principles and sparing with details of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha imposes her desires 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 partner both advocating plastic surgery on her – is evidently a central idea for Kamura. But despite Yan’s vocation, it feels a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the enigmatic bandaged diner also in residence.
Performances and Cinematic Craft
The three focused performances at the core – an nearly aggressive Roschdy Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-involved Park – give Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, 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 physical, sensory imagery. Obsessing over absence, threatening to drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an intriguing kind of modern ghost story.
Winter in Sokcho is available on Mubi from November 7.
