New Zealand Listener 03.14.2020

MARCH 14 2020 LISTENER 69

TV REVIEW

W

hen times are uncertain

• and 2020 is certainly
  the gift that keeps on
  giving in that regard


• it’s understandable to want
  to settle in with a cuppa and
  two Krispies for the old-school
  pleasures of something like
  Call the Midwife. The series has
  tackled confronting issues from
  domestic violence to female
  genital mutilation, and yet
  the jolly health professionals
  cycling purposefully around
  the dilapidated-but-doughty
  East London precincts of Poplar
  still sometimes seem about as
  nuanced as Enid Blyton’s Noddy
  motoring – parp, parp – through
  Toyland.
  It’s season nine. We have now
  laboured our way, literally and largely
  without pain relief, to 1965. Safely
  returned from a Christmas special
  set, for some reason, in the Outer
  Hebrides, the nurses and nuns of
  Nonnatus House find themselves in
  the swinging 60s. How to convey the
  a-changin’ times? There’s the Beach
  Boys on the soundtrack. And midwife
  Trixie strikes a blow for women’s lib:
  “I’m going to take the plunge with
  my new electric lady shaver!”
  Meanwhile, there’s a woman about
  to go into labour in a homeless facil-
  ity so derelict – “the walls are full of
  bedbugs!” – that a dead rat attends

For reassuring

viewing, the nuns

of Nonnatus House

provide lots of safe

pairs of hands.

Comfort in labour

No facet of

the innate

melodrama

and fraught

politics involved

in inhabiting a

female body is

left unexplored.

the midwife’s visit. Not Dickensian enough? The

area is also undergoing newfangled urban renewal.

“Flaming wrecking ball’s been going all afternoon,”

sighs another mum-to-be as Sister Julienne, down

the business end, dusts away the falling debris.

Oh, and an era has ended: “Our Winnie has

finally pegged it!” Cue a speech on the legacy of

the old warhorse from Dr Turner: “The NHS was

nothing to do with Churchill and his party!” he

declares, as he grooms his rabbit.

These are long BBC episodes. Even so, they don’t

half pack a lot in, including a diphtheria outbreak

that contributes to a running theme about the

erratic progress of social evolution and a lot of typi-

cally punishing Call the Midwife dialogue: “We will

take every conceivable measure to head off mastitis

at the pass!”; “Another placenta for disposal!”;

“This woman was lactating!”

Miriam Margolyes’ Mother Mildred, apart from

being a mouthful alliteration-wise, took

to her role as head nun at Nonnatus

House with a gusto that makes her

turn back in the day as a fanati-

cal puritan on Blackadder

seem understated. She’s a

little rotund, which means

she’s required by the writ-

ers to compulsively scoff

teacakes when she’s

not motoring through like a mobile

marquee to deliver a drive-by sermon:

“The relinquishment of a child,”

she intones, when a baby is discov-

ered abandoned in the Nonnatus

House rubbish bin in yet another

hectic subplot, “has little to do with

poverty and everything to do with

desperation!”

S

adly, Mother Mildred is off back

to the order’s mothership, or

whatever the technical Anglican

term for it is, just as the news

comes in that Nonnatus House

is to be bowled along with the

slums of Poplar in the name of

progress. What’s to be done?

Well, they are nuns. “It would

be a poor show,” says Sister

Hilda, “if I didn’t put in a word

for our old chum, prayer.” Sister

Julienne looks unconvinced. But

no doubt all will ultimately be,

as Miranda Hart’s late-lamented

Chummy might have said, tip

top and tickety boo.

Could this be more British?

Still, the show aces the Bechdel

test and any other measure when

it comes to making women-

centred television. No facet of the

innate melodrama and fraught poli-

tics involved in inhabiting a female

body is left unexplored, to sometimes

gruelling effect. The slightly stolid

public-service broadcasts on abor-

tion, vaccination, contraception, etc,

can possibly be forgiven in a time

when science and reproductive rights

are under increasing threat. As can

Vanessa Redgrave’s syrupy voice-

over. Downton Abbey with fewer toffs

and a lot more gynaecology? We’ll

take all the help we can get. l

DIANA

WICHTEL

Call the Midwife:

“Another placenta

for disposal!” Below,

Miriam Margolyes

as Mother Mildred.

CALL THE MIDWIFE, TVNZ 1,

Friday, 8.30pm.