Playwright John Cariani is a hugger. If you made a documentary about him, it could run for an hour by asking just one question to each interviewee: How did Cariani greet you? The answers might sound like this: “A hug.” “He hugged me.” “With a hug.”

Cariani’s romantic comedy “Almost, Maine,” which Penobscot Theatre Company opened to packed houses at the Bangor Opera House over the weekend, is also a hug, this time to Aroostook County, where he grew up. Cariani now lives in New York City, is a Tony-nominated actor and one of the newest American playwriting voices. (“Cul-de-sac,” his second play, opened Sunday in an off-off-Broadway production.) But he hasn’t forgotten the lessons of his childhood in a place with big skies and big hearts.

The word “almost” takes a few turns in this script. Most centrally, it is the name of the fictional town where Cariani sets the 11 short episodes that make up this two-hour piece. “Almost” also stands for the almost losses and almost loves that the characters in this play confront. The ensemble cast of Eric Clem, Caroline Price, Paul Rhyand and Kate Stone portrays the citizens of Almost – the repairman, waitress, mill- worker, snowmobiler, artist, ice skater and others. In doing so, they deliver the essence of Cariani’s message: Love is magical, painful, joyful and ubiquitous. Turns out, human beings long to be hugged.

When “Almost, Maine” took a turn earlier this year in an off-Broadway theater, critics saw it as too warm and fuzzy. Indeed, I found that production overtly sweet, a tear-jerker. Yet, in the hands of mature actors who lucidly understood the depth of Cariani’s simplicity, the show avoided slipping toward saccharine. And yes, I cried. More than once.

Scott R.C. Levy, director for the Bangor production, sees Maine through the filter of local eyes – or as local as you can get after living here for less than a year. His production, the last of this season, is gritty, rustic, woodsy. The state is the fifth player in the cast, Levy suggests, but it doesn’t keep the other four players from expressing a few universal truths about relationships. This may be Almost, Maine, but it’s Almost, Anywhere-Small-Town-America, according to Levy. And the show mostly honors that view.

But there’s no mistaking the County tropes here. A couple of the actors pull out near-Canadian accents and land just shy of issuing a coastal “Ayuh.” The jeans are high-waisted, the smiles are ready, and there are Bean boots in every scene – even as they might be too pricey for the characters depicted. Yet the spirit of the place, its climate, clarity and chumminess are all there, too, most adeptly in scenes with Paul Rhyland, a triple threat of good ol’ boy, underdog and teddy bear, and Eric Clem, who is as comfortable playing goofball as playing spurned lover. Their second-act scene together as pals who fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book – love – is one of the best in the production.

But you’ll have your own favorite scene. You may be drawn to Caroline Price’s high-pitches as a tough neck or, in another scene, the frustration she relays about her dissolving marriage. Or you’ll relate to Kate Stone’s guilt for growing up local and going away – only to return to find that life in her hometown isn’t as static as she had expected. Be careful of expectations, Cariani warns, because there’s something more than snow and stars in the air.

This is a young cast for Cariani’s literary work. Even in their wide-eyed open-heartedness and generosity, his Almostians are slightly wizened by weathering – internal and external. Thankfully, this group excels at Cariani’s superb comic pauses, and once the actors have fully adjusted to the raucous laughter coming from the audience, they’ll nail every single funny moment in the show. If at times they are a bit too zippy, a smidge touchy-feely for Yankees, they remain true to an overall picture – just as the NY cast did.

And what a picture it is, when you also consider Lex Liang’s set design, a massive aerial-view map of Maine, including a cluster of islands edging toward the audience space. Below the actors’ feet are the lakes, byways and snow drifts of Maine; above them looms the great northern sky. All manner of junk fills the side spaces in the same way some Mainers fill their yards with discarded cars and seasonal machinery. Except here, the junk is costumes and set pieces. When the actors aren’t in a scene, they wait in the shadows of the debris. They leap into action to adapt the set’s hidden doors for various locales. Furniture is minimal but effective – Liang’s abstract version of a dryer filled with tumbling clothes got its own applause at Sunday’s matinee. Lighting designer Jonathan Spencer is no small player in creating the mood of these quirky situational chapters, whether a skating pond, a deep-woods camp, the local bar (called the Moose Paddy) or a basement laundry room. His work during the first episode sent a collective “oooooh” through the audience.

In nearly 20 years of reviewing locally produced live theater, I have never seen a theater as full with audience members who reeled with delight, identifying with the characters and their environs. Cariani reminds us that theater can be a mirror. It’s easy to see something of ourselves in his poetic reflection about Maine life. Here’s hoping that theatergoers will parlay this triumph into a springboard to other works that may not be set in Maine but are also about the landscape of the human condition.

This may be almost anywhere. It may be almost your Maine. Or mine. But mostly, it’s Cariani’s Almost, which is completely endearing. Hugs anyone?

Penobscot Theatre Company will present “Almost, Maine” 7 p.m. May 4 and 12, 8 p.m. May 5 and 6, and 2 p.m. May 7 at the Bangor Opera House. Other performances, which are at 7 p.m., include May 11 at Eastport Arts Center; May 13 at Camden Opera House; May 14 at Stonington Opera House; May 17 at Houlton High School; and May 19 at Caribou Performing Arts Center. For information, call 942-3333 or visit www.PenobscotTheatre.org. Alicia Anstead can be reached at 990-8266 and aanstead@bangordailynews.net.