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Inspired by a novel by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this elusive yet bracing film centers on guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she drives French writer Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the demilitarised zone just north of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Koya Kamura’s first feature also camps in a no man’s land of the soul, with Sooha, abandoned by her father from France while she was still in utero, trapped between two cultures. After the francophone hostess is forced to chaperone the mysterious author, she loiters uncomfortably between tetchy friendship and complex desire.

Everyday Existence and Disruption

When she’s not digging into visually stunning marine dishes cooked by her fishmonger mother (Park Mi-hyeon), Sooha is relaxing with her partner (Gong Do-yu), an hopeful model aiming for a move to the capital. However this comfy routine is disrupted when the foreigner takes up residence for a long-term stay. Initially conforming to her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he turns out, on Googling him, to be acclaimed graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Arriving in Sokcho in search of creative fuel, he manages to prise the story of Sooha’s absent parent from her. She spies on him through a vent – but it remains to be seen whether he’s a proxy father, or another figure entirely.

Inner Turmoil and Symbolic Layers

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in bursts of secret, winding moments of physical constraint and liberation. We witness only her internal world, though; Yan stays a remote presence, insisting on his solitary principles and stingy with details of his past. His enigmatic role, as Sooha projects her needs on to him, is intentional – but this imbalance prevents Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Visual style – and control, with Sooha’s parent and partner both pushing plastic surgery on her – is evidently a central idea for Kamura. Yet despite Yan’s profession, it seems a bit adjacent to the main story, like the enigmatic wrapped guest also in residence.

Acting and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the centre – an almost hostile Roschdy Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-involved Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura doesn't fully narratively contain the wary faceoff between innkeeper and guest, he is always on his toes in terms of feeling, often exploring a tactile visual register. Fixating on absence, threatening to drown in internal sensations, Kamura musters an fascinating kind of contemporary phantom tale.

The film can be seen on Mubi from 7 November.