It is rare for a show about birth and blood to become the television equivalent of a warm blanket. Usually, when a series hits its twelfth or thirteenth season, it’s running on fumes, rehashing old plot lines, or jumping the shark with a sudden move to a new city. But Call the Midwife is different. Honestly, it shouldn't work as well as it does. It’s a period drama set in the poverty-stricken East End of London, following nuns and nurses who cycle through smog-filled streets to deliver babies in tenements. It sounds bleak. Sometimes it is. Yet, it remains one of the BBC’s most consistent ratings juggernauts, pulling in millions of viewers who want to see the reality of the 1950s and 60s without the sugar-coating.
The secret isn't just the nostalgia. It’s the grit.
The Poplar Reality Most People Get Wrong
People often dismiss this show as "cozy TV." That’s a mistake. If you actually sit down and watch an episode of Call the Midwife, you’re just as likely to see a harrowing case of illegal abortion or the devastating effects of the Thalidomide scandal as you are to see a cute baby in a knit cap. It’s the juxtaposition that hits hard. You have the serene, religious life of Nonnatus House clashing directly with the visceral, often violent reality of post-war London.
Heidi Thomas, the show's creator, based the early seasons on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth. Worth was a real-life midwife in Poplar, and her accounts were far from rosy. She wrote about the "Terrible London" that still had bomb sites from the Blitz and families of ten living in two rooms. The show hasn't shied away from that. While the cast has shifted—we lost Jenny Lee, then Chummy, and eventually the beloved Barbara—the neighborhood of Poplar remains the true protagonist.
It’s about the shift from the old world to the new.
In the beginning, the midwives were dealing with women who had eighteen children and no access to contraception. By the later seasons, we’re seeing the rise of the NHS, the introduction of the Pill, and the changing racial landscape of Britain as the Windrush generation arrived. It's a history lesson that feels like a gut punch because it’s told through the eyes of the women living it.
Why the Characters Stick With Us
We have to talk about Sister Monica Joan. She’s probably the most complex character on the show, played with a sort of ethereal brilliance by Judy Parfitt. She’s a woman who was a pioneer in her youth—one of the first women to qualify as a nurse and midwife—now grappling with dementia and a world that is moving too fast for her. She isn't just "the funny old nun." She represents the fading of an era.
💡 You might also like: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
Then you have Stephen McGann’s Dr. Turner. McGann is actually married to the show’s creator, Heidi Thomas, which might explain why the character feels so grounded and deeply cared for. Dr. Turner is the personification of the idealistic early days of the National Health Service. He’s overworked, constantly stressed, and carries the weight of the community on his back. When the Thalidomide crisis hit the show, his guilt was palpable. He had prescribed the drug. He saw the consequences. That kind of long-term storytelling is why Call the Midwife keeps its audience; it doesn't just reset the status quo every week.
The Evolution of Nonnatus House
The midwives themselves—Trixie, Shelagh, Nancy, and the others—aren't static archetypes.
Trixie Franklin, played by Helen George, started as the "glamour girl." Over a decade later, she’s a recovering alcoholic who has dealt with profound loneliness and professional burnout. She’s a sophisticated woman who chooses to stay in a slum because she believes the women there deserve the best care. That’s a powerful arc. It moves past the "pretty nurse" trope into something much more substantial.
The Medical Accuracy is Ridiculously High
One thing you’ll notice if you talk to real midwives is how much they respect the show. The production employs a dedicated midwifery advisor, Terri Coates, who was actually the person who inspired Jennifer Worth to write her books in the first place. Every "birth" on screen is choreographed to be as medically accurate as possible for the time period.
They don't just "pop" the baby out.
You see the sweat. You see the different positions. You see the complications—pre-eclampsia, breech births, placenta praevia. It’s a masterclass in how to use technical detail to heighten drama rather than just for the sake of being "gross." For many viewers, it’s the first time they’ve seen the actual mechanics of labor treated with such reverence and reality.
📖 Related: Ted Nugent State of Shock: Why This 1979 Album Divides Fans Today
The Controversy of "Cozy"
There’s a weird tension in how the media covers Call the Midwife. Because it’s about "women’s issues"—birth, family, domestic life—it’s often relegated to a lower tier of "prestige" TV compared to gritty crime dramas or high-concept sci-fi.
That’s a gendered bias, pure and simple.
The show handles social issues that most "prestige" dramas wouldn't touch. It has covered female genital mutilation, the decriminalization of homosexuality, the legalizing of abortion, and the systemic racism within the medical field. It does this while maintaining a Sunday night time slot. That’s a tightrope walk. You have to keep the "gentle" fans happy while not lying about the harshness of the 1960s.
Honestly, the show is at its best when it's uncomfortable.
Think back to the episodes involving the Workhouse survivors. Or the way it handled the death of Nurse Barbara. It wasn't a "TV death" designed for shock value; it was a slow, agonizing look at septicemia that felt devastating because the community lost one of its lights.
What to Expect Next
As the show moves into the late 1960s and eventually the 70s, the world of Call the Midwife is going to change even more. The "nuns" are becoming a smaller part of the story as secularization takes hold. The uniform is changing. The technology is changing. But the core—the idea that every person deserves a dignified entry into the world—remains the same.
👉 See also: Mike Judge Presents: Tales from the Tour Bus Explained (Simply)
If you’re looking to catch up or dive deeper, don’t just binge it for the weddings and the tea. Watch the background. Look at the way the sets change from the soot-covered 50s to the more colorful, but still struggling, 60s.
How to get the most out of your watch:
- Read the Original Memoirs: Jennifer Worth’s trilogy (Call the Midwife, Shadows of the Workhouse, and Farewell to the East End) provides a much darker, more visceral look at the stories that inspired the first few seasons. You'll see where the show lightened things up and where they stayed hauntingly true to the text.
- Watch for the Historical Context: Each season corresponds to a specific year. Look up the headlines from that year in the UK. When the show mentions a "new vaccine" or a change in the law, it’s usually the pivot point for the entire season’s emotional arc.
- Pay Attention to the Soundscapes: The music isn't just background noise. The shift from choral music and traditional hymns to pop and rock and roll tracks the literal "opening up" of the neighborhood's culture.
- Follow the Real Midwifery History: The Royal College of Midwives often discusses the show’s themes. Following their archives can give you a perspective on how much the profession has changed since the days of the "District Midwife" on a bicycle.
The show isn't just about babies. It’s about how a society decides who is worth saving. It’s about the fact that even in the darkest, most impoverished corners of a city, there is a community of people willing to show up at 3:00 AM in the rain just to make sure a stranger isn't alone. That’s why it’s still on the air. That’s why we’re still watching.
In a world that feels increasingly fractured, there’s something profoundly radical about a show that insists on the value of every single life, no matter how "insignificant" the world deems it. It’s not just a show; it’s a record of how we became who we are today.
To truly understand the impact of the series, look at the rise in midwifery school applications in the UK and US over the last decade. It has directly influenced a new generation of medical professionals. The "Midwife Effect" is real, proving that television can do more than just entertain—it can actually shape the workforce of the future by validating a profession that was once pushed to the shadows.
Keep an eye on the shifting social dynamics in the upcoming seasons. As the 1970s loom, the tension between the traditional religious orders and the modernizing medical establishment will likely become the show's new focal point. This isn't just a period piece anymore; it's an evolving study of institutional change.