Jean Marsh, Groundbreaking 'Upstairs, Downstairs' Star and Co-Creator, Dies at 90
Jean Marsh: The Force Behind 'Upstairs, Downstairs' and a British TV Icon
It’s not often you come across someone who has truly changed the shape of television, but Jean Marsh did just that. The Emmy-winning actress and creative powerhouse behind the much-loved drama Upstairs, Downstairs died at 90 on April 13, 2025, at her London home. Dementia complications ended a life defined by remarkable performances, trailblazing ideas, and a steadfast belief in the power of storytelling.
Marsh’s biggest legacy lives on in her portrayal of Rose Buck, the steady and sharp-witted housemaid who navigated the social minefield of Edwardian-era London. Back in the 1970s, television didn’t talk much about the lives of those ‘downstairs’—the servants who kept grand houses running. She changed that, teaming up with Dame Eileen Atkins to sketch out a TV world equally invested in mahogany drawing rooms and bustling basement kitchens. The idea was born during a spell house-sitting in France, just two actresses scribbling notes, but it turned into a phenomenon.
When Upstairs, Downstairs hit TV screens in 1971, no one was prepared for how hungry Britain—and soon, America—was for class-crossing drama and quiet acts of rebellion. Marsh’s Rose turned the familiar trope of the invisible servant into something heroic and deeply human. By the time she won the Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actress in 1975, people weren’t just watching for the scandals of the Bellamy family, but for Rose’s quiet grit and heart.
It didn’t stop there. Marsh steered the show through its revival in 2010, stepping once again into Rose’s shoes. Even as TV costumes grew grander and storylines more intense, she remained the beating heart of the series—both on screen and off, where she guided scripts and story decisions with her trademark wit and empathy.
Beyond Television: A Storied Career Across Film and 'Doctor Who'
Think Marsh was only about British period drama? Far from it. Over the decades, she climbed into all sorts of roles—sometimes as an unsuspecting nun in Cleopatra, other times as a scheming villain in Doctor Who. Audiences saw her fighting for survival in Hitchcock’s Frenzy (1972), casting spells in ’80s fantasy flicks like Willow and Return to Oz, and stepping into historical drama with grace and a bit of mischief. With such a range, you almost forgot she started out as a dancer and model in the colourful streets of postwar London.
Her stint with Doctor Who thrilled fans, not just for the novelty of seeing Rose in space, but because she brought complexity to roles that could have been just ‘the sidekick’ or ‘the villain.’ Off-screen, there was that personal twist—her brief marriage to Jon Pertwee, TV’s third Doctor, from 1955 to 1960. Their partnership may have ended, but her involvement with the Whoniverse never really did—she appeared opposite multiple Doctors, earning respect from fans of every generation.
Jean wasn’t just an actress; she was a creator. She co-developed The House of Eliott for the BBC in the ’90s, another series that let women’s stories and period intrigue shine. Friends and collaborators, like director Sir Michael Lindsay-Hogg, have spoken out since her death about her extraordinary warmth, sly humour, and relentless drive to make TV smarter, fairer, and infinitely more entertaining.
The wave of tributes pouring in from castmates, writers, and old-school fans paints a portrait of someone whose greatest gift was empathy—whether she was scripting sparkling dialogue or comforting a co-star during a tough shoot. Jean Marsh showed us that there’s real drama in everyday courage, and that the voices in the basement are just as worth hearing as those in the parlour upstairs.