Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn's Pusher trilogy exposes the seedy and dangerous underworld of Copenhagen, where drug dealers and hookers and other sketchy characters seemingly roam free with no heed for the law. Or at least, the three films give us a version of that underworld, one certainly informed by the work of Scorsese, with the brutal yet casualness of Tarantino's style thrown in for good measure. The films, taken on their own, stand as strong entries in the long line of street crime cinema, but as a whole the Pusher trilogy is something of a revelation, so uniquely and cleverly does it tie its three parts together while maintaining a clear and focused message throughout.

1996's Pusher introduces us to Frank (Kim Bodnia), a smalltime drug dealer who, little does he know, is about to embark on the worst and possibly last week of his life. The film is broken down into days (title cards indicate Monday, Tuesday, and so on), just as Frank's world begins to break down around him when a drug deal, inevitably, goes horribly wrong. Taken in by the cops, who can't hold him because of lack of evidence, Frank is soon back on the street in 24 hours.

His first order of business is to bash in the skull of his buddy Tonny (Mads Mikkelsen), who the police say ratted him out. Then it's on to the pressing matter of making good on the money Frank owes his supplier, the creepy Balkan drug kingpin Milo (Zlatko Buric, most recently seen in James Gunn's Superman) — money that remains elusive to Frank throughout the course of the film, and the amount of which keeps increasing every time he misses a promised payment deadline. Soon it's clear that Frank has no way out of this dire situation, and yet eventually he is given a choice. Does he escape town or face Milo... does he live or die? Refn's film is ambiguous, as are his character's motivations throughout.

Pusher II: With Blood on My Hands followed in 2004, reportedly because of Refn's financial troubles. Gone is Frank, with only an oblique mention of him in some throwaway dialogue, but Refn's ingenious way of continuing the saga is to pick up the story of a second-tier character from the first film. Tonny (Mikkelsen again, who would soon be playing the bad guy Le Chiffre in Casino Royale, positioning him for international acclaim), somehow still alive after his beating at Frank's hands (though definitely the worse for wear), has just gotten out of prison and seeks out his father while looking for a job. He claims he's ready to go straight, though how straight he means is unclear considering that dear old Dad is a criminal too (he runs a stolen car ring).

But even if Tonny's motivations are as vague as Frank's were in the first film, he does at least exhibit the smallest hint of humanity here. He craves his father's acceptance, and when he learns that his ex-girlfriend has given birth to his child in his absence, he eventually comes to show a slight interest in the kid. But as with Frank's tale before him, wrongheaded decisions and bad luck bring the walls crumbling down around Tonny by the final reel… although, one must ask, is that a happy ending that Refn has given the character this time around?

The third film in the series is 2005's Pusher III: I'm the Angel of Death. Lame subtitle notwithstanding, the picture manages to continue to up the ante in its tale of Copenhagen coke and Scandinavian skeeve. This time our hero, or one should say anti-hero, is Milo, the drug lord from the first two films (Buric, reviving the supporting role as a lead here) who was more or less a scary bad guy in the earlier pictures, but now has become the character we are intended to identify with. The picture opens with him at a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, and though he's been clean for five days, that doesn't mean that he isn't still pushing the stuff. His problem though is that he's getting old now, and his is a business run by young men. As new blood has entered the dealing arena of Copenhagen, Milo finds his power and territory threatened.

Soon he's in a tough situation that ironically mirrors that of Frank's in the first film, and things quickly escalate out of control. He also winds up being the most sympathetic and human character of the entire series. While the picture has a comedic edge at times that was lacking in the first two entries, that doesn't undermine what is at stake for Milo one bit. The man, it would seem, has earned a soul since the original Pusher. Too little too late? Refn will leave it to you to make that call.

The director's style (long takes, gritty gore, realistically harsh lighting) is distinctive, as well as distinctly non-Hollywood (though he would make his way to the U.S. eventually with films like Drive and The Neon Demon). Viewing the films together in one sitting (as I did) is recommended in that certain details and character connections between each picture will be more easily recognized under such circumstances, as will Refn's growth as a storyteller. Two remakes of Pusher (one in Hindi and the other in English) would follow in 2010 and 2012, respectively, but it's the original trilogy that remains a gripping if inadvertent sprawling crime saga.

The Pusher trilogy just received a UK-only box set from Second Sight Films with restorations from the director. It's available in two versions – a Limited Edition 4K UHD set and a Limited Edition Blu-ray set.