If it's tough being a cowboy in Rochdale it's not that much easier being an intern in a French hospital, a sentiment which pretty much comprises the message of Hippocrate. Vincent Lacoste - and no, he doesn't sport crocodile shoes - is one such intern and we join him on his first day at a hospital where his father, Jacques Gamblin, is head honcho. Gamblin in fact is the only 'name' in the cast and certainly the only name that may be recognisable to audiences outside France so it is ironic that his total screen time amounts to something like twenty minutes every one of which he could have phoned in. Within what appear to be minutes of his arrival Lacoste decides a patient would require an ECG only to be told that the relevant equipment is broken and has been for months. Inevitably the patient dies and Lacoste is encouraged by colleagues not least his own father, to state that an ECG was performed and showed negative and again inevitably this returns to haunt him. He befriends an Algerian intern, a full doctor in his own country, who is also tailor-made for the scapegoat role when one is needed. This, in general, is the tone of a fine if mostly unremarkable film.
