Though this is a serviceable drama about a young doctor, the medical details are ludicrous--in the pre-CPR days, Kildare massages the back of a girl thought to be dead, instructing an onlooker to hold a mirror to her mouth to see if she's breathing. Eventually she does--after 15 or 20 minutes--without a suggestion of possible brain damage. Then the troubled girl is put into the hospital, tries to kill herself a second time, is saved by Kildare again, and then promptly diagnosed (apparently without any observation) by the resident psychiatric expert as schizophrenic. "But wait," I'm saying to myself at home, "she hasn't shown any symptoms of schizophrenia"--not even 1938-era understanding of schizophrenia.
Fortunately young and earnest Dr. Kildare is able to protest this diagnosis and rapidly discover the real reason she's tried to commit suicide--which he debunks, leading all to a happy conclusion and no further cause for concern. Uh huh, it was all a misunderstanding and everything will be rosy henceforth--the formerly suicidal girl pops out of bed and falls into her fiancé's arms, all smiles.
Right.
Fortunately young and earnest Dr. Kildare is able to protest this diagnosis and rapidly discover the real reason she's tried to commit suicide--which he debunks, leading all to a happy conclusion and no further cause for concern. Uh huh, it was all a misunderstanding and everything will be rosy henceforth--the formerly suicidal girl pops out of bed and falls into her fiancé's arms, all smiles.
Right.