A feel good drama from a feel bad era.

After last week’s Friday Night Movie Night review, you might have been expecting a follow-on with the swashbuckling sequel to The Mask Of Zorro, but no – that’ll have to wait. For, you see, the beauty of the Friday Night Movie Night system is that whoever’s turn it is to choose (this week Mrs Craggus) gets to select whatever they want for whatever reason they choose and this week she’s decided to take the risk of sharing one of her most cherished favourites with the family. Adapted from Michelle Magorian’s beloved novel, Goodnight Mister Tom brought a poignant slice of wartime life to television screens in 1998, anchored by a career-best performance from the late John Thaw. A story of broken lives, healing, and unexpected friendship, the movie manages to tread delicately between heart-warming uplift and the grim realities of its historical setting. It’s a tale that could easily have tipped into sentimentality, but Thaw’s measured, understated turn ensures it never does.

Set against the backdrop of the Second World War, the story follows young William Beech (Nicholas Robinson), an evacuee sent from London to the quiet countryside village of Little Weirwold. There, he is placed in the care of the reclusive and seemingly gruff Tom Oakley (Thaw). What begins as an awkward and strained relationship soon blossoms into something transformative for both. Thaw’s Mr Tom is far from the caricatured “grumpy old man” archetype; he’s a man hollowed out by grief, his reclusiveness masking the raw wounds of loss. Thaw’s ability to convey Tom’s gradual thaw—pun almost intended—with subtlety and grace anchors the emotional core of the film.

Nicholas Robinson delivers an earnest and affecting performance as William, capturing both the haunted fragility of a boy raised in a home of violence and neglect and the tentative steps towards finding joy and safety. The chemistry between Thaw and Robinson is undeniable, and the gradual deepening of their bond feels natural, earned, and profoundly moving. The moments of levity—William discovering simple pleasures like kindness and companionship—are all the more touching for the stark contrast to his earlier life.

Director Jack Gold’s careful hand ensures the Goodnight Mister Tom ’s tone never feels jarring despite the sharp contrasts between the idyllic countryside and the shadow of war. The bucolic beauty of Little Weirwold is rendered in warm, earthy hues, a striking counterpoint to the cold, oppressive greys of William’s past. While the cinematography leans heavily on the pastoral charm of its setting, it’s not afraid to linger on the darker moments. The London scenes, brief but harrowing, feel appropriately stark, and the revelation of William’s trauma is handled with sensitivity and restraint, never tipping into melodrama.

The supporting cast, though inevitably overshadowed by Thaw’s towering presence, brings depth and texture to the story. Annabelle Apsion is chilling as William’s abusive mother, delivering a performance that’s as restrained as it is horrifying. Meanwhile, the village’s quirky residents, led by the warm and bustling Mrs. Fletcher (Mossie Smith), provide a sense of community that’s both endearing and essential to the narrative’s themes of belonging and renewal.

Where the film perhaps stumbles is in its pacing. Certain subplots, such as Tom’s reconnection with the village community, feel underdeveloped, and the climactic sequences in London, while powerful, can feel somewhat rushed compared to the languid pacing of the earlier acts. But these are minor quibbles in an otherwise deeply affecting adaptation.

At its heart, Goodnight Mister Tom is a story of healing—not just for William, but for Tom too. It’s a testament to the redemptive power of kindness and the resilience of the human spirit, even in the face of unimaginable loss. John Thaw’s performance elevates the material, turning what could have been a straightforward Sunday evening drama into something quietly extraordinary.

While the film may now show its age in some of its production values, its emotional core remains timeless. If anything, it’s a bittersweet reminder of the profound loss of John Thaw’s talent. His Mr Tom is a character for the ages: gruff, gentle, and unforgettable.