A gripping and eerie tragedy of the supernatural and an unmissable re-release (made in 1955), though my personal view is that it falls a millimetre short of Day of Wrath or The Passion of Joan Of Arc on account of its overtly theatrical compositions: two characters in dialogue scenes will speak and face outward, as if to an imaginary auditorium. Yet perhaps even this stylisation adds to its strangeness and cumulative power. A widowed farmer, Morten, is oppressed by life's cares: his three grownup sons have all distressed him; his closest bond is with his pregnant daughter-in-law, Inger. A confrontation with his pious neighbour leads to this man calling for a grotesque "miracle" for Morten – and this gripping film sets about giving birth to one. Part of its power lies in the undercurrent of sexual tension: Inger's birth cries sound weirdly coital (they were reportedly the real thing: Federspiel really was pregnant and Dreyer tape-recorded her voice while giving birth) and the final embrace is intensely sensual. A film with a hypnotic, irresistible stare.