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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Mel O&#039;Drama" data-source="post: 344011" data-attributes="member: 23">Series One On Trial / The Mistress and The MaidsAs all good introductory episodes seem to do, we mostly meet the characters through the eyes of an onscreen newcomer.I particularly appreciate the layers to this particular story, with Clemence/Sarah meeting the downstairs colleagues who will also effectively be her housemates. Each of those situations by itself comes with its own dynamic and there’s a balance to be struck, with the pecking order made firmly clear so that Sarah knows her place.Thrown into this mix are the employers upstairs, and the intricate dance of the daily routines and the accompanying etiquette when interactions become necessary and the two worlds meet.Making things more challenging and interesting for us as viewers sharing her experience, Sarah herself is an unreliable narrator. A compulsive liar with delusions of grandeur to conceal a very humble - and quite possibly tragic - past. At one point, when embroidering her background to her new colleagues she actually tells the story of Cinderella, right down to the wicked stepmother.It’s to Pauline Collins’s credit that those things which threaten to alienate Sarah even further from her already distrusting colleagues make the character more endearing to us, because it’s plain that behind it is a kind of self-esteem-related fear which suggests she either doesn’t know how to fit in or simply feels she won’t be good enough.The key relationship for me is that between Sarah and housemaid Rose, with Rose initially the loudest voice of Sarah’s unsuitability gradually thawing over the first episode to the extent that Rose becomes something of a protective older sibling.As Rose, series co-creator Jean Marsh (appearing on O'Dramavision in recent weeks as a team member on Give Us A Clue) is wonderfully understated. I found her rather underwhelming at first, but the morning after watching those first two episodes find that it’s her scenes that have perhaps the most resonance. Her initial scenes see her being frosty, haughty and a little waspish towards “Clemence” as she arrives for her interview, firmly establishing that the position is for an under housemaid, with Rose herself the housemaid.She responds to Sarah’s blatant untruth about previously living in a chateau by mockingly - and repeatedly - asking her to “say something in French”.It quickly becomes apparent that Rose herself is threatened by the new arrival, alluded to early in the piece when, in the course of dinner conversation, Rose is reminded how important it is to give the newcomer the chance to fit in, strongly suggesting that she, too, didn’t immediately fit in.The perceived threat from Sarah was reinforced when Lady Bellamy entrusted Sarah to repair a priceless embroidered cushion, having recognised her delicate hand. For a short time I feared Rose might actually sabotage Sarah’s perfect work but, to her credit, she swallowed her pride and allowed Sarah to take the cushion upstairs herself. These small moments allow her character to emerge as one who is fair-minded and with integrity.Pretty soon, Rose is acknowledging Sarah’s assets, such as her good memory for instructions. And she helps Sarah put her best foot forwards - quite literally - by offering her own spare pair of boots in place of Sarah’s worn ones:I feel the real turning point in their relationship - as well as the staff really warming to Sarah - comes after Sarah has been caught out having stolen and sold a bird from the larder (something Mrs Bridges herself also does regularly), in the course of which it emerges that Sarah can't write. She breaks down and it feels like the first honest, vulnerable moment for her character. But it’s the pained look of pity and empathy on Jean Marsh's face as Rose which really sells it.Later, in their shared bed, Sarah - still feeling shaky - asks why Rose helped her:As well as some insight into Rose’s backstory, it’s her attitude which is perhaps the most telling. This isn’t a job or career for her. It’s a way of life. And as she goes on to describe her mother sacrificing in order for her to get into service and ride in a carriage we realise that, unlike Sarah, this is something Rose of which has always dreamt. It’s an ambition which has been realised, one which is desperately important to her. So entrenched is she in this way of life that she’s become institutionalised. Much in the way that structure becomes disproportionately important to long term boarding school pupils, psychiatric hospital patients or prisoners, so one feels Rose would struggle to function without the daily routine, the bells to answer and the familiar pecking order. And without fuss or even an explicit acknowledgement, Rose makes complete sense.Crucially, this adds to the sense of jeopardy in the second episode when both Sarah and Rose appear in Anton Rogers’ naked painting, despite Rose never even having met him. With both of their positions in jeopardy, this time it’s Sarah who saves Rose by telling the truth. It’s clear that the friendship between the two has deepened still further between these two episodes, with Sarah  happily chattering about their plan to save some money and open a boarding house in Brighton, which is very sweet indeed. continued...</blockquote>

Verification: What month follows July?