150 Milligrams

In the crisp, rain‑kissed streets of Brest, a university hospital pulses with the relentless rhythm of modern medicine. Within its sterile corridors, Dr. Irène Frachon moves with the confidence of a seasoned pulmonologist, her day‑to‑day defined by the precision of diagnoses and the quiet urgency of life‑saving procedures. The film drapes this clinical world in a subdued, almost documentary texture, letting the hum of monitors and the hushed conversations of staff set a tone that feels both intimate and foreboding.

It is amid this routine that Frachon begins to notice a troubling pattern: patients treated for unrelated ailments share an unexpected heart condition, all of whom have been prescribed the same state‑approved medication. The discovery flickers like a warning light, prompting her to step beyond bedside care and into the realm of epidemiological sleuthing. The hospital’s corridors give way to archives, data rooms, and hushed meetings, where the line between scientific curiosity and moral imperative blurs, hinting at forces that would prefer the anomaly stay unnoticed.

Compelled by a blend of professional duty and personal conviction, Frachon assembles a small but steadfast circle, including Dr. Antoine Le Bihan, whose methodical approach grounds her fervor. Together they navigate a labyrinth of bureaucratic protocols and corporate caution, each step echoing the solitary nature of her quest. The atmosphere is one of quiet determination, where the stakes feel enormous despite the restrained visual style, and where the promise of truth hangs in the air like an unspoken oath—setting the stage for a confrontation between unwavering inquiry and the shadowed weight of powerful interests.