Loneliness, lack of respect, and a wholesale absence of ethical standards prove to be a volatile combination in The Good Doctor, Lance Daly’s character study of a man whose obsessions are fueled by homicidal narcissism. Six days into his residency, Dr. Martin Blake (Orlando Bloom) finds himself smitten with patient Diane (Riley Keough), whose urinary-tract problems are curable—too curable, in fact, for Martin, who soon conspires (through a visit to her home) to sabotage her medication and then, once she has returned to the hospital, to thwart her treatment so he can further foster their budding feelings for each other. Such medical malpractice is destined to lead to some sort of inevitable tragedy, and John Enbom’s script eventually turns a tad too melodramatic during a second half full of twists, blackmail schemes, and police investigations. Nonetheless, despite largely perfunctory supporting turns from Taraji P. Henson, Michael Peña, Rob Morrow, and J.K. Simmons, the film is anchored and greatly bolstered by Bloom, who delivers a performance of quietly escalating madness. Only rarely raising his voice and exhibiting modulated speech and comportment that suggest a man whose every move is a deception, Bloom exudes a chilling intensity that even a corny recurring bit about ocean drowning can’t squelch.