A Piece of Cake

Cyril Fletcher, in this period, held a minor celebrity for the nonsense poems he wrote and recited on the BBC. Here, he pretty much plays himself. It's his birthday and he composes a poem about a Merlin Mound, who appears at Fletcher's birthday party in the person of Laurence Naismith, and provides a lavish spread and clothes for the female guests to model.

Unfortunately, rationing is still in force, so the next morning, John Pertwee -- in his first credited screen appearance -- shows up demanding records of Fletcher and his wife (played by Fletcher's actual wife, Betty Astell. Things get even worse when some spivs show up to demand the return of their goods, ration cards and cash, while Fletcher's attempts to fix the problem by composing more nonsense rhymes go awry.

This short (44 minutes) feature has not aged particularly well. Fletcher aside (who late in his career played Lewis Carroll), no one seems to have much of a sense for the logic of nonsense, replacing silliness with frenzy. Even so, it has its moments.

Those two words sum up this whole movie. All 55 peculiar minutes of it. Cyril is trying to write an "ode" (though god knows why!) and struggling, and he drifts off into a slumber while still muttering over it. What follows is the most bizarre dream sequence ever, where the imaginary man he is thinking of is conjured up and spends the night with them, making whatever they say come true. The tiny dinner party is a grand feast, all the ladies have fine dresses, the vintage is a classic '89. BUT! This isn't the usual Merlin who magics things up from nowhere, all the finery has been "stolen" from other places, and those people readily want their payout. Betty and Cyril try and get rid of the conjurer, but just antagonise him and turn him into a malicious monster. Good grief, where do they come up with these ideas? 7/10 (it may have been silly, but it was short and absorbing!)

A very strange and whimsical short film that seems to have been envisaged as a feel-good fantasy for viewers to sit through in a post-WW2 rationed country. This one stars man-of-the-moment Cyril Fletcher as the host of a party who dreams about the arrival of a magician (called Merlin, naturally), played by future Mr Blunden Laurence Naismith. The non-existent plot focusses on extra helpings of food and cake while supporting characters come and go, including a youthful Harry Fowler playing a spiv and Jon Pertwee as a government suit. It's weird stuff for sure, and even as a fan of the era I didn't really enjoy it.

This film was made at Highbury Studios at what became known as the Tank Charm School. The idea was to foster young actors so that they could play small film roles and attend social functions.

Cyril Fletcher first came to fame on BBC radio with his odd odes. Layer on he became a fixture in Esther Rantzens That's Life TV programme.

This is a very odd film that almost defies description. Because essentially it all takes place in his dream it gives the filmmakers licence to include any odd idea that they can think of and certainly a number of wish fulfillment seems in an era of very strict rationing.

With war-time rations, a writing deadline with his publisher and a miserable birthday party ahead, Cyril Clarke is not in a candle-blowing mood. With a rush of inspiration he manages to finish the poem, a peculiar ode about a magickal fellow named Merlin Mound.

There is knock at the door that evening at the party (Betty Clarke has only cold sausage to offer the guests). The slimy looking Merlin Mound enters, proposing to ladle them with luxuries.

Merlin to Betty: "I received your husband's message and came at once."

Cyril to Betty: "He's the exact image of the character in the ode I finished this evening."

Cyril then gleefully wishes for a slap-up dinner. Merlin spins his tie and takes dinner from another party and materializes it in the dining room. He swipes a bottle of port from an ancient castle. With a swoosh he fills Betty's wardrobe with designer gowns that he has stripped from ladies at a rich party.

The guests are wondering how the Clarke's do it. One, (Mr Short, a government man) is calculating their coupon rations and tallying up food items.

A tiered cake arrives with a band; all stolen by Merlin.

Merlin moves in and continues to produce. They think they have a genie.

Mr Short, a government food inspector, arrives the next morning on an official visit concerning the Clarke's observed luxury. People start arriving, wanting their goods back. The band wants their food and cake. Gangsters demand their dames' dresses be returned.

Merlin flashes over the problem by manifesting a pile of money. In desperation to rid themselves of this trouble-making jester, Cyril adds banishing lines to the ode.

Merlin returns as a devilish trickster.

The gangsters discover their loot has gone from the safe, while Mr Short reports a safe full of coupons have disappeared. Betty begins to say a couple of lines of poetry in the hope of spoofing away Merlin but he spirits her away to Doomsday Hall.

Cyril is pursued by the gangsters and the government.

Wacky scenes in a cardboard castle follow.

Cyril shouts:

"I'll make you finally disappear By putting fireworks in your beer Then belching fireballs - reds and greens… You'll blow yourself to smithereens."

Cyril wakes from this fizzy dream to a birthday party and cold sausage.

It's an understandable tale of war-time rationing. One might consider writing odes to Merlin. Here is the ode if you are tempted:

Ode (composed by Cyril Fletcher who played Cyril Clarke)

When making magic, Merlin Mound

would start his bow tie spinning round

He found the magic quite a strain

for he took off like an aeroplane

So to weigh him down next to his skin

he wore combinations made of tin

Also wore a Norfolk suit

and one elastic-sided boot

Then the departed, most surprised

he found his combs. were magnetized

Before his guilty secret showed 

he had spun his tie and shed his load

(adding later as the adventures proceeded)

Your machinations make me sick

Go back and conjure for old nick

(then finally adds)

I'll make you finally disappear

by putting fireworks in your beer

Then belching fireballs - reds and greens...

You'll blow yourself to smithereens