No-budget indie clustering a bunch of plotlines into one "average" night at an L. A. hospital, this quick programmer is notable for, first, Margaret Lindsay, nicely underplaying the most efficient, caring doctor who ever lived, and, second, tackling some fairly adventurous subject matter for 1956. There's rape, unwed pregnancy, child abuse, alcoholism, guns in the wrong hands, terrible father-son dynamics, and a ringing endorsement of government-subsidized health care. Most of the plots are introduced and resolved disparately, and the dialog isn't what you'd call inspired. But for its time, it feels fairly frank, and there's the added plus of seeing a whole ensemble of actors you never heard of doing pretty good, understated work. Byron Palmer, the juvenile in Broadway's "Where's Charley?", takes a wildly different turn as a playboy race car driver who smashes up his $8,000 (!) Mercedes to avoid hitting a motorcyclist, and the hospital staff, while only as large as the budget will allow, is encouragingly multiethnic.