Sokcho in Winter Review: A Moody Slow-Burning Tale of Familial Bonds and Intimacy in a South Korean Frontier Town
Based on the book by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this subtle yet bracing film follows hotel employee Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives French writer Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the demilitarised zone just north of the city of Sokcho. Metaphor alert: Koya Kamura’s first feature also resides in a liminal space of the spirit, with Sooha, left behind by her father from France while she was still unborn, trapped between dual heritages. After the francophone hostess is forced to accompany the enigmatic author, she lingers uneasily between tetchy friendship and complex desire.
Everyday Existence and Upheaval
If not enjoying spectacular-looking seafood cooked by her mother who sells fish (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her boyfriend (Do-yu Gong), an hopeful model gunning for a relocation to the capital. But this comfy routine is overturned when the outsider settles in for a extended visit. Initially matching her prejudices about rude French men, he turns out, after an online search, 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 air duct – but the question lingers whether he’s a surrogate parent, or another figure entirely.
Inner Turmoil and Symbolic Layers
Sooha’s subterranean feelings surface in bursts of secret, sinuous moments of bodily suffocation and liberation. We are privy to only her internal world, though; Yan remains a distant figure, upholding 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 one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Visual style – and restraint, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both pushing plastic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. But despite Yan’s profession, it feels a bit separate from the main story, like the mysterious wrapped guest also in the guesthouse.
Performances and Cinematic Craft
The three focused performances at the centre – an almost hostile Zem, increasingly scattered Bella Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – give Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite thematically corral the cautious standoff between hotelier and guest, he is consistently on his toes in terms of feeling, often dipping into a tactile visual register. Obsessing over absence, on the verge of succumb in subjective feelings, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of contemporary phantom tale.
The film is available on Mubi from 7 November.
