Winter in Sokcho Analysis: An Atmospheric Slow-Burn Tale of Family and Intimacy in a Korean Border City
Inspired by the book by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Kim Bella) as she escorts French writer Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the demilitarised zone just north of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Koya Kamura’s debut film also camps in a liminal space of the soul, with Sooha, abandoned by her French father while she was still unborn, caught between two cultures. After the French-speaking employee is forced to chaperone the enigmatic author, she lingers uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and complex desire.
Daily Life and Disruption
When she’s not digging into visually stunning marine dishes cooked by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her partner (Do-yu Gong), an aspiring model aiming for a move to Seoul. However this comfy routine is overturned when the foreigner settles in for a extended visit. At first conforming to her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he turns out, on Googling him, to be acclaimed comic book writer Yan Kerrand. Arriving in Sokcho in pursuit of creative fuel, he succeeds in prise the story of Sooha’s missing father from her. She observes him through a vent – but it remains to be seen whether he’s a surrogate parent, or something else.
Emotional Landscape and Thematic Depth
Sooha’s buried emotions surface in flashes of secret, sinuous moments of physical constraint and liberation. We are privy to only her internal world, though; Yan stays a distant figure, insisting on his solitary principles and sparing with details of his history. His cipher status, as Sooha imposes her needs on to him, is deliberate – but this imbalance prevents Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Visual style – and control, with Sooha’s parent and partner both pushing cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a key theme for Kamura. Yet in spite of Yan’s profession, it feels a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the enigmatic bandaged diner also in the guesthouse.
Performances and Directorial Approach
The three focused performances at the core – an nearly aggressive Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-involved Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its emotional anchor, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the wary faceoff between hotelier and guest, he is consistently on his toes emotionally speaking, often dipping into a physical, sensory imagery. 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 November 7.
