There are any number of truisms brought to mind by “Return to Seoul,” the remarkable new film by director and screenwriter Davy Chou. Certainly, Thomas Wolfe’s cautionary dictum, “You can’t go home again,” is one of them. Then there’s Aesop’s advice to be careful about what we wish for, lest it come true. Also let’s not forget the words of the immortal Richard Penniman Jr., better known as Little Richard, who once mused about getting what you want but losing what you had. 

Park Ji-Min plays 25-year old Frédérique Benoît — she goes by the nickname Freddie — who has just recently stepped off the plane at Seoul. This trip was made on impulse when her flight to Japan was canceled at the last minute due to bad weather. Chance occurrence has a way of fulfilling fate: Freddie was born in Korea but adopted by a French couple, and a return to her homeland was, in significant regard, foreordained.

She checks into a hotel in which the hostess, Tena (Guka Han), speaks French and subsequently helps the new guest when navigating the locals. Freddie goes out to dinner with Tena and Dongwan (Son Seung-Bom), and learns some lessons about Korean etiquette. She needs them: Freddie is French through-and-through, as well as possessed of a temperament prone to unpredictable and often rude behavior. 

That, and she tipples a bit much. Within a few minutes, Freddie has corralled a group of strangers as a display of psychological “sight reading” for Tena and Dongwan. Enough imbibing takes place that when Freddie wakes up the next morning, she’s unsure if she’s had sex with the young man lying next to her. Before he has a chance to clarify the matter, Freddie suggests they have a go at it. Such is the off-the cuff and aimless life led by our heroine.

Except Freddie does, ultimately, set out with a goal in mind: finding her birth parents. With only a distressed color photo on hand, she makes an appointment at the Hammond adoption agency to see if any information can be gleaned from its files. Her mother and father are located with the complication that the former isn’t at all interested in seeing Freddie. Her father, in direct contrast, is eager to know his daughter.

With Tena in tow, Freddie heads to a disabused suburb of Seoul and meets dad (a bewildered Oh Kwang-Rok) along with his sister, two teenage daughters, and a god-fearing Christian grandmother and, at the periphery, wife. The reunion is uncomfortable and the behavior inappropriate on all fronts. Freddie’s father overreaches in terms of emotional need and Freddie herself bristles under his attempts at reconciliation. Tena proves herself a consummate diplomat when translating Freddie’s thornier bon mots.

“Return to Seoul” skips ahead in time, several times over. We watch Freddie traverse adulthood with its vexing array of bumps, blind alleys, and random connections. Among the most pivotal of the latter is a quick Tinder hook-up with André (a charmingly disheveled Louis-Do de Lencquesaing), a middle-aged French arms dealer and three-times divorced father of four. His importance in Freddie’s life is more consequential than either of them could have initially imagined.

Mr. Chou has crafted a rambling film about one person’s attempts to manufacture an identity forged from seemingly insurmountable sources and fraught with the potential for emotionally draining consequences. That he’s done so with a main character who’s as churlish as she is confused — really, Freddie is no easy sell — indicates Mr. Chou has an adroit way with universal truths, and that he’s selected the right actress, the steely Ms. Park, to underscore them. 

“Return to Seoul” is, in the end, as rich and changeable as life itself, a film that earns a right to stand alongside kindred coming-of-age landmarks like “The 400 Blows,” “Moonlight,” and “Eighth Grade.”