In the first scene of “Jack and Jill: A Modern Romance,” a man sees a woman reading Sylvia Plath in a bookstore and approaches her. “I, Jack, would like to meet you, female person, for some nonthreatening relating.” To which the woman (Jill) responds: “I am, I think, unapproachable. … Don’t take leaving me alone personally, but – leave me alone.”

You may be able to tell that this relationship, which is at the heart of Jane Martin’s two-person show now running through Oct. 13 at the Bangor Opera House, is in for some rough rides as Jack and Jill go up the hill of coupledom. Jack is an all-around Mr. Nice Guy, and Jill is a high-strung, nerves-exposed Ms. Don’t Mess With Me (except she wouldn’t use the word “mess”). Together, they arm themselves for one of the trickiest battlefronts in history: the modern romance. Nonthreatening relating? Don’t kid yourself.

Given the persistent puppy-dog civility of Jack and the ruthless, unrelenting intensity of Jill (think Lilith from “Cheers”), one wonders what motivates these two people to continue after they crash on contact. But as the initially unpersuasive courtship unfolds over a decade, the characters reveal the puzzling balance between compatible and combustible when it comes to the chemistry of “opposites attract.” “I love you,” insists Jack. “There’s no such thing,” recants Jill. And they’re off and running.

The strength of the two-hour piece, which premiered in 1996 as part of the Humana Festival of New American Plays at the Actors Theatre of Louisville in Kentucky, is that it tears pages from the diaries of every relationship marked in equal parts by the desire for connection and the struggle for freedom. Take an additional page from the neuroses of Woody Allen and the textual cadences of David Mamet, and, well, you get the overly articulate picture.

Even if the idea is derivative in places, it is entertaining and wrenching enough to inspire post-show conversations among couples. And if it doesn’t, it should.

Clearly, the show wouldn’t be as penetrating without the extraordinary energy, focus and commitment of Daniel Rappaport and Marianne Ryan in the title roles. Rappaport’s Jack is amiable and blithe, and Ryan’s Jill is emotionally angular and terse.

It seems, at first, that each of them is too rigidly and symbolically defined by their roles, which is clearly one of the potential obstacles of the script.

But Rappaport and Ryan overshadow those concerns with sympathetic, straightforward characterizations that depict raw expectations and vulnerabilities.

Yes, this show can be a downer. Yes, the stereotypes are rampant. Yes, this is shamelessly about yuppies. And yes, if a plate is going to be smashed onstage, it should be ceramic instead of plastic (which bounces). But ultimately “Jack and Jill” is a comedy about the slings and arrows of love in the modern world, and this production gives the theme a thorough workout.

Penobscot Theatre guest director Chris Dolman sensitively captures fight-or-flight conundrum at the root of “Jack and Jill.” He minimizes every element of the show except the bracing emotion, and in that arena he is not afraid to pause on the edge of the abyss or to dive into the joys of adulthood. (For the record, parents should note that the language, situations and somewhat scanty clothing in this play may not make it appropriate for children.)

Above all, Dolman shows sophistication and restraint, which is admirable indeed for a show that could easily slip into sentimentality.

The episodic format is framed by melancholic music and by a stylized and careful choreography that assists the actors between scene and costume changes. Three unobtrusive onstage dressers – Paul Kisseloff, Adam Kuykendall and Elizabeth Nichols – are reliable, subtle and vital to the smooth flow of action.

With producing director Mark Torres, Dolman has reconfigured the Opera House into a theater-in-the-round with onstage risers and seating that puts the audience in an intimate performing space. Just as the script exposes the underpinnings of two hearts, the set emphasizes the components of theater – including the audience members, who become both voyeurs and jury.

The verdict? This is the edgy, witty, unforgiving territory of romance. So watch out. You may find yourself tearing a page from your own diary by the end of the show.

Penobscot Theatre will present “Jack and Jill” Thursday-Sunday through Oct. 13 at the Bangor Opera House. For tickets, call 942-3333.