The weekend on television As cosy as a Teddy’s Bears’ Picnic, but a hardy lesson
January can be a depressing month so thank the televisual deities for Call the Midwife (BBC One, Sunday), which was back to beam some period East End warmth into our living rooms. I counted a mere 13 minutes before the first bleat of a freshly delivered infant was heard and a soppy grin spread across my face.
It was spring 1964 and the nation was gripped by Royal baby fever, thanks to the impending arrival of the Queen’s fourth child. Violet (Annabelle Apsion) was raising funds for a Teddy Bears’ Picnic by running a sweepstake on its gender. Blue balloons were inflated when news broke that “It’s a Prince!” (Edward, to be precise).
In these turbulent times, it was a treat to take refuge in shameless nostalgia. This showed a more innocent world of milk tokens and luncheon meat, permanent waves and Mary Quant frocks, all soundtracked by Gerry and the Pacemakers.
With extra help needed in Poplar, Mother Mildred (the marvellous Miriam Margolyes, who was introduced to us in the Christmas special) sent “green as grass” Sister Frances (Ella Broccoleri) and gung-ho Sister Hilda (Fenella Woolgar) – two more newcomers – to Nonnatus House. Both looked promising additions to the revolving cast.
The nurses took delivery of snazzy new midwifery bags, which might not sound like the stuff of high drama but as Trixie (Helen George) said: “They do rather become an extension of one’s arm.” The increasingly erratic Sister Monica Joan (Judy Parfitt) grew distressed when she saw Fred (Cliff Parisi) burning the old leather bags and went Awol. Her struggle with dementia and Trixie’s with alcoholism continue to be running themes during this eighth series.
As always, writer Heidi Thomas combined the heart-warming with the hard-hitting, hence an affecting storyline which saw a botched backstreet abortion endanger the life of aspiring model Cath (Emily Barber). It might come cosily dressed in a cardigan and pinafore, but this drama isn’t afraid to tackle tough topics.
If Call the Midwife’s Christmas episodes have become formulaic, with their Nativity plays and snowfall, this was a return to form: an absorbingly paced, perfectly judged slice of Sunday-night pleasure. Michael Hogan
How much more miserabilism can we stomach? We’re halfway through Les Misérables (BBC One, Sunday) and Victor Hugo’s sadistic assaults on his characters are already so remorseless that another three hours may have us all following Jean Valjean (Dominic West) into a nunnery to seek blessed peace.
The demise of Fantine (Lily Collins) was quite the sweatiest and most wrenching deathbed scene since Lady Sybil expired in Downton Abbey. With miraculous help from the make-up department, Collins mutated into a post-punk alabaster ghoul. Even Inspector Javert (David Oyelowo) lowered his weapon. Then there was the self-sacrifice of Valjean, whose arrest rather put the kibosh on his pledge to seek out young Cosette (Lia Giovanelli). It was with some relief that two years on he was able to saunter back into the story and, with unexplained funds, buy her out of a life of brazen cruelty that made Dickens’s Dotheboys Hall look like a five-star health farm.
As the villainous Thénardiers, Olivia Colman and Adeel Akhtar are having lashings of fun. It was a pleasure to see them suffer at the hands of both Valjean and Javert, who at least have this one thing in common. Like many a noxious smell, the Thénardiers may require further disinfectant.
The pursuit of Valjean by Javert veers between implacable and unwatchable. Such was the headlong urgency of their moral duel that Andrew Davies’s script devoted the entire episode to it, with the result that the Pontmercy plot strand is now officially missing in action.
Without cribbing from Hugo, who has acres of room to go into such things, it’s hard to put a finger on why Javert has such a specific beef about a man who pinched a coin. Perhaps it is the repressed felon in himself he hinted at in the opener.
Whatever, Valjean’s rescue of Cosette was always too good to be true. Nosy neighbours (as succulently played by Anna Calder-marshall) have only one function in such plots as this. Thanks be to Georgie Glen for the crystal-pure glare of the mother superior as she risked damnation by lying through her teeth. A riveting escape. Next week, more fresh hell. Jasper Rees Call the Midwife Les Misérables