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Based on a novel by Swiss-Korean writer Elisa Shua Dusapin, this subtle yet refreshing film follows guesthouse worker Sooha (Bella Kim) as she escorts author from France Yan (Zem Roschdy) to the DMZ just north of the city of Sokcho. Symbolism abounds: Director Kamura's first feature also resides in a liminal space of the soul, with Sooha, abandoned by her father from France while she was still unborn, caught between dual heritages. After the French-speaking employee is forced to chaperone the enigmatic author, she lingers uneasily between strained companionship and Oedipal attraction.

Everyday Existence and Upheaval

If not enjoying visually stunning marine dishes prepared by her mother who sells fish (Park Mi-hyeon), Sooha is lolling about with her partner (Gong Do-yu), an hopeful model aiming for a move to the capital. But this familiar rhythm is overturned when the foreigner settles in for a long-term stay. Initially matching her biases about rude French men, he turns out, after an online search, to be critically lauded graphic novelist Yan Kerrand. Coming to Sokcho in pursuit of inspiration, 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 proxy father, or something else.

Emotional Landscape and Symbolic Layers

Sooha’s buried emotions surface in flashes of secret, winding moments of physical constraint and liberation. We are privy to only her inner life, though; Yan remains a distant figure, upholding his loner ethic and sparing with particulars of his history. His enigmatic role, as Sooha projects her needs on to him, is deliberate – but this imbalance hinders Winter in Sokcho from fully opening up. Visual style – and restraint, with Sooha’s parent and boyfriend both pushing cosmetic surgery on her – is clearly a central idea for Kamura. Yet despite Yan’s vocation, it seems a bit separate from the primary narrative, like the mysterious bandaged diner also in residence.

Acting and Directorial Approach

The three focused performances at the core – an almost hostile Zem, progressively unmoored Kim, and the self-involved Park Mi-hyeon – give Winter in Sokcho its solid centre, and if Kamura doesn't fully narratively contain the wary faceoff between innkeeper and guest, he is consistently on his toes emotionally speaking, often exploring a physical, sensory imagery. Fixating on emptiness, threatening to drown in internal sensations, Kamura creates an fascinating kind of contemporary phantom tale.

Winter in Sokcho is available on Mubi from 7 November.