A little more effort in the “truth in translating the title” department would serve Netflix and its subscribers well, especially in the case of “A Copenhagen Love Story.”

That’s not exactly a lie, but the messaging in that innocuous title could convey anything from a rom-com to a romantic weeper. A romantic melodrama that begins with the hedonistic freedoms brought by the sexual revolution, that later dwells on the mental health challenges of “trying to get pregnant,” fertility treatments, abortion and stepmotherhood? That’s a tad unexpected.

That’s why this Danish film should have probably kept its vague but loaded with meaning Danish title — “Sult,” literally translated as “Hunger.”

“Hunger” is open to a few interpretations here. Because once you get past the callow opening act, where we meet the Danish pop novelist Mia, who spends her 30s devouring, dating and discarding younger men, this Ditte Hansen/Louise Miertitz adaptation of a Tine Høeg novel is adult in a lot of predictable ways, and in some surprisingly smart ones.

Mia’s “Tour de Force” is selling well, and she’s romantically “back in the saddle” with a “swipe swipe swipe” desire to sample Denmark’s smorgasbord of available men.

But rejecting a prospective set-up, Emil (Joachim Fjelstrup) because he’s “too old” is a moment of truth. “He’s the same age as you” (in Danish, with or without subtitles, of dubbed into English) she’s told. Emil is Mia’s chance to “date an adult for once in your life.”

Emil’s a divorced archaelogist with two small kids. And dating him changes Mia’s priorities. As she struggles with a follow-up novel, with her “process” involving a sort of confessional (voice-over-narrated) diary that morphs into a manuscript, she’s wondering about what she’s been missing while having all that free, independent fun?

“If you don’t have a child, do you remain a child?

How serious is she?

The early acts have snatches of gender reversal irony but little in the way of laughter, even as they are cast according to lighthearted rom-com formula. Mia’s got a married gay brother (Magnus Haugaard Petersen) struggling to adopt. Her person-of-color bestie (Sara Fanta Traore) has a little boy and a husband (Magnus Millang) who is more enthusiastic about having another than she is.

And her editor (Mille Lehfeldt) is eager to see what Mia’s latest personal experiences add up to in her next novel.

As Mia and Emil move in together as a family, their struggle to conceive begins. And that’s where the “hunger” in this “Copenhagen Love Story” shifts focus. They’ve simply got to have a child of their own.

Actresses-turned co-writers/directors Hansen and Mieritz don’t skimp on the details of that ordeal, and on the psychological cost the injections, treatments, rigid sexual routine and chilling news about sperm counts and fertility rates has on two smart, well-educated “adults.”

Mynster makes the mercurial Mia more realistic than she might come off on the page or in the few paragraphs of a review. The actress lets us see the longing, the agony and the flashes of pettiness of someone trapped in her own, myopic priorities in this most personal of quests. Every pregnancy she learns of triggers another shame/resentment spiral.

Fjelstrup plays the “stabilizing” mate as well as the “type” demands. Rare is the movie or TV series about struggling to get pregnant in which the husband doesn’t start to complain about the timeclock rigors of intercourse aimed at ensuring procreation.

And Copenhagen is shown-off to a lovely degree — parks and statues, lots of waterfront street scenes, but few true “tourist” landmarks — save for the towering Our Savior Church spire, where Mia is determined to make out in the film’s opening scene.

Again, there’s irony here. It just doesn’t play as funny.

But it is the film’s frankness in depicting the soul-crushing challenges facing women who put off pregnancy for years of independence that makes “A Copenhagen Love Story” pay off.

The title change feels like a jab at Copenhagen. And there’s no denying  it can feel like a serious minded”Lifetime Original Movie.” 

But the  attention to details and a script that’s not shy about venturing into the medical, financial and psychological ordeal becoming pregnant can be set “Copenhagen” apart. The film’s second half more than atones for its drifting muted early scenes, not quite reaching the laughs it might be aiming for, cataloguing many a romance novel/movie cliche.

Rating: TV-MA, sex, nudity, alcohol abuse, profanity, adult situations

Cast: Rosalinde Mynster, Joachim Fjelstrup, Mille Lehfeldt, Magnus Haugaard Petersen, Magnus Millang and Sara Fanta Traore

Credits: Scripted and directed by Ditte Hansen and Louise Mieritz, based on a novel by Tine Høeg. A Netflix release.

Running time: 1:45