A wordy, pensive and petulant slow burner of sadness and emotional decline in the frank face of sex, Døden er et kjærtegn (Death is a caress) (1949) runs many a risk of falling a foul of the lack of Americana and the singular lack of a national cinematic voice, in order to achieve its grim ends.
As a noir worthy of any nation, Døden er et kjærtegn (Death is a caress) (1949) is a story freed from World War 2 and shot in a recently occupied country, which might make cause for thought.