The Winter of the Year Was Warm is a remarkable film, fashioned out of a remarkably ordinary premise. In-sung is a film producer and director based in Seoul who likes to escape the stress of the city each weekend by driving to the seaside town of Gangneung. He loves the relaxed atmosphere there, and especially the local food. One day he mentions to his friend, who runs a small cafe, that he is thinking about getting a second home in Gangneung, rather than pay for a hotel every weekend.
The cafe owner, meanwhile, has another friend named Yu-jeong who often stops by for coffee. Yu-jeong is a nurse in a Gangneung hospital, and though she is very committed to her job, on weekends she usually drives into Seoul to enjoy the cultural life. Typically she stays with a friend and visits an arthouse cinema or goes to see a performance. But one day, her friend informs her that she has a new boyfriend, and that Yu-jeong is no longer welcome to share her place. Yu-jeong reluctantly checks into a cheap motel.
It is at a moment when the three of them are all together by chance that the cafe owner notes how In-sung and Yu-jeong’s lives are like mirror images of each other. “You two should stay in each other’s apartments each weekend, rather than booking motels,” he says. In-sung thinks about it for a moment and likes the idea, but Yu-jeong can’t quite imagine the idea of opening up her home to a stranger.
Romantic comedies and love stories typically revolve around a romantic relationship that takes shape in the course of the film, and which later undergoes some kind of test. Structurally, The Winter of the Year Was Warm develops in similar ways, with one key difference: the relationship at the center of the film is not a romantic relationship, it is the practical arrangement between the two characters to share their apartments. This may sound at first like the dullest of subjects. However, over the course of the film’s 100 minute running time, director Cho Sung-kyu uses this as a means of fleshing out two convincing, nuanced, and highly likable characters.
After all, there is something quite intimate in letting someone stay in your home. Traces of your character exist in the bookshelves, in your refrigerator, and in the things hanging on the walls. Some of the best scenes in The Winter of the Year Was Warm are moments in which In-sung and Yu-jeong draw closer to each other, not by spending time together, but by passing time alone in each other’s homes.
Lead actors Kim Tae-woo and Yeh Ji-won do a tremendous job of bringing these characters to life. Much of the film’s warmth springs from the quiet, focused intensity of their acting. As the film director In-sung, Kim Tae-woo gives such a relaxed, naturalistic performance that at times it seems he is unaware of being the star of this film. But ultimately, this only makes the character more fascinating. As for Yeh Ji-won, most famous perhaps for her outwardly expressive performances in Turning Gate and Old Miss Diary, she projects an entirely new sort of image in this film by turning her emotions inward. Her tightly controlled charisma proves to be the perfect complement to Kim Tae-woo’s friendly charm.
My personal experience of viewing this film was that as the story progressed, there was never any scene or moment that jumped out and impressed me with its dynamism or creativity. The film unfolds in a very ordinary setting, and I simply fell into the story without thinking very much about what I was watching. It was only when the film ended that I realized how much I actually liked it. For a work that shows such a casual disregard for the accepted rules of screenwriting, The Winter of the Year Was Warm proves to be unexpectedly good at storytelling.
Darcy Paquet