FEW plays move you so deeply you dissolve into a flood of tears (of joy mostly) only to take cover under your coat to spare yourself the humiliation – and spare your fellow spectators the grating sniffles and full-blown blubbing.

Thankfully the last line of Goodnight Mister Tom, spoken by the curmudgeonly recluse cum accidental carer Tom Oakley, had a similar effect on a large proportion of the audience and after a resounding wave of ‘ooohhs’ rippling through the theatre, the unmistakable sound of sobs rose from the stalls and royal circle. It is testament to the power and relevance of this tale of resilience, survival and, ultimately, love that it should prompt rows of spectators to simultaneously break down with just one word from the lead character.

Set during the dangerous build-up to the Second World War, Goodnight Mister Tom follows young William Beech, who is evacuated to the idyllic Dorset countryside and placed under the care of bearish widower Tom Oakley and his faithful dog Sammy. Slowly but surely William forges a remarkable and heart-warming friendship with the elderly recluse

Months pass and as war is declared and the losses mount, the villagers of Little Weirwold rally together as best they can determined to muddle through and do their part for the war effort. Things take a sombre turn when William is suddenly summoned by his mother back to London.

David Troughton’s nuanced and stirring performance as Mr Tom, a benevolent old soul crushed by grief until he takes in young William, is simply superb. He paints an endearing and hugely believable portrait of a gentle man who, behind the coarse West-Country drawl and gruff manners, finds purpose again in caring for the little boy.

Alex Taylor-McDowall is flawless as the skittish William, who lands on Mr Tom’s doorstep bruised, battered and desperate for just a sliver of affection and kindness.

As for Oliver Loades he brings a welcome touch of humour and light-hearted fun to an often heart-breaking (and tear-jerking) plot as larger-than-life evacuee Zach. Sent to live with relatives in the village, the would-be thesp has no qualms bursting into song or putting on spontaneous skits at school or the post office (to a moderately receptive audience). Oliver’s energy and unflagging optimism are contagious and brings the discrepancy between the reality of war and those who make do away from the frontlines in even sharper contrast.

A nod must be made to the shrewd set design. Like Russian dolls, the simple, sparse wooden platform used as the set for Tom’s village and home cleverly splits open in the second half to reveal William’s grubby London slum-cum-flat.

The use of a dog puppet is also a lovely touch and kudos to the puppeteer for her attention to detail, from the dogs’ constant whimpering, to the subtle rise and fall of its flanks to mimic breathing throughout.

Goodnight Mr Tom is a great story, beautifully and touchingly told.

It runs at the Theatre Royal Bath until April 30.