As to the stage sets, costuming and makeup, those are all well done, if the tight budget does show a bit in the set construction. At one point, a staircase railing jiggles when a character places her hand upon it. It's supposed to be a sturdy old mansion, so it can't have been deliberate. Still, maybe I'm weird but I liked that slightly cheesy element to this collection. It means the acting had to be that much more earnest to get the viewer past the slapdash elements. And it was. The accomplished cast includes Joan Hickson (Miss Marple), Charles Dance (Gosford Park, White Mischief) and as mentioned, Jane Asher.

Jane Asher's makeup and hair stylist deserves special mention. My last mental image of Ms. Asher was from Brideshead Revisited so I had no idea whether she had aged well or badly in the four years between that series and Time for Murder. Then, her episode opened to flashback scenes in something of a dual role - Sonja before and after her trauma. As 'young Sonja' the ballerina, Asher is supple in movement, with the natural, fresh-faced beauty of youth.

So it began to dawn upon me — the makeup and acting entwined to make this role so effective were genius — "just brill!" as Sonja might squeak. Asher's body language, vocal intonations, everything, change as she goes from light to dark, before and after, as Sonja. It makes the episode and the series. Janet Suzman's turn as the writer seeking solace and seclusion hit a sour note, as its campy cadence did not mesh with Asher's earnest realism. Still, they served up a delightful dish - and a shocking one as well. The closeup of Sonja's ruined face, powdered and peeling, and grey roots under too-red hennaed hair, say all we need to know about the tragic exchange she made. Rather than her own upkeep she sacrificed all she had for the construction of someone else's bliss. What at first seems like a suspense story becomes a cautionary tale.

The other episodes in this collection are more standard TV mystery fare. In one, a collection of seeming strangers becomes stranded at a bed and breakfast. "The Murders at Lynch Cross" has an Agatha Christie feel to it. Of course, the group are not truly strangers to each other - they have all crossed paths in some past tragedy they took scarce notice of. But since this is a mystery/suspense series, we know someone will have to pay for this transgression. Antonia Fraser's teleplay "Mister Clay, Mister Clay" concerns a schoolmaster whose young students tease him daily to the breaking point. The plot is a bit muddled and long in unraveling, but it does seem prescient, echoing in a way it could not have known, today's school violence as result of bullying. Joan Hickson co-stars in that episode. She brings to life a very strict older schoolmarm, with wildly uncombed hair. We all had this teacher at some point in our school careers. One can practically smell the mothballs scenting her threadbare wool sweaters through the TV screen. The pity is that Hickson isn't given more to do in the slightly unwieldy storyline.