Winter in Sokcho Analysis: An Atmospheric Slow-Burn Tale of Familial Bonds and Intimacy in a Korean Border City
Based on the book by Korean-Swiss writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this elusive yet bracing film follows hotel employee Sooha (Bella Kim) as she escorts author from France 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 spirit, with Sooha, abandoned by her father from France while she was still in utero, caught between dual heritages. Once the French-speaking employee is forced to chaperone the mysterious author, she loiters uncomfortably between strained companionship and Oedipal attraction.
Daily Life and Upheaval
When she’s not digging into visually stunning seafood cooked by her fishmonger mother (Mi-hyeon Park), Sooha is relaxing with her partner (Gong Do-yu), an aspiring model aiming for a relocation to Seoul. However this familiar rhythm is disrupted when the outsider takes up residence for a extended visit. Initially matching her biases about impolite Frenchmen, he turns out, after an online search, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of inspiration, he manages to extract the story of Sooha’s missing father from her. She spies on him through a vent – but the question lingers whether he’s a surrogate parent, or something else.
Emotional Landscape and Thematic Depth
Sooha’s subterranean feelings erupt in flashes of secret, winding moments of bodily suffocation and liberation. We witness only her internal world, though; Yan remains a distant figure, upholding his solitary principles and sparing with details of his past. His cipher status, as Sooha projects her desires on to him, is intentional – but this one-sidedness hinders Winter in Sokcho from reaching its full potential. Aesthetic expression – 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 vocation, it feels a bit adjacent to the primary narrative, like the enigmatic wrapped guest also in residence.
Performances and Directorial Approach
The trio of strong acts at the core – an almost hostile Zem, increasingly scattered Kim, and the self-absorbed Park – provide Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura can’t quite narratively contain the cautious standoff between hotelier and visitor, he is consistently on his toes emotionally speaking, often dipping into a physical, sensory imagery. Obsessing over emptiness, on the verge of drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an intriguing kind of contemporary phantom tale.
The film can be seen on the streaming service from 7 November.
