The best thing about the Gilbert and Sullivan Society of Hancock County is that, after 21 years, its members can still tell a good joke. That’s a must for any group performing the tricky humor of Sir William Gilbert and Sir Arthur Sullivan, who, for lack of a better term, might be called opera’s Monty Python of the late 19th century.

With this year’s show, the G&S Society asked its slightly maniacal patronage to take its presence in Maine a tad more seriously. Typically delivering its goods at the old art-deco Grand Auditorium in Ellsworth, the G&Sers made a debut appearance with “The Mikado” this weekend at the Maine Center for the Arts, one of the premiere halls in the state. The performance — filled with the troupe’s signature hi-jinks and talent — proved you can take the show out of the Grand without taking the “grandness” out of the show.

In short, the three performances that took place in the chi-chi setting were successes — with audiences totaling more than 600 each night. Those of us who have been following the happy career of Maine’s only G&S society were not surprised. As community theater goes, it doesn’t get any better than this around here — even with its occasional missed cues or tossed-off lines. The G&S Society has an attitude — filled with appropriated English snobbery, Down East cleverness, quick-witted theatricality and no pretension.

It would be unfair, however, to relegate this group to the realm of “folksy.” They are not. Artistic director Dede Johnson is a master at keeping the action crisp and, along with Judy Savage, arranging the choreography with simplicity and smartness that seems to make just about everybody onstage look good. For “The Mikado,” the two went over the top with Japanese fans of all sizes. The sight gags were gleefully relentless — culminating in a mini-battery-operated fan.

Music director John Mallery Haskell kept the orchestra hopping and the singers on task. And what an extraordinary group of singers, too. The tenor Francis John Vogt (Nanki-Poo) has a voice that won’t quit when it comes to beauty and resonance. John M. Cunningham, a certifiable G&S zealot, also has a touch of the glorious in his voice. Bronwyn Kortge, playing the ingenue Yum-Yum, was no less charming. Of all her soprano roles in recent memory, this was her finest work.

There’s no leaving out Roland Dube when the compliments are being passed out. He’s the cut-up in this crowd, always taking the clown role and turning it into a one-man show — and without ever upstaging his fellow actors. Dube, who teaches math at Garland Street Middle School and must be a hoot in the classroom, comes undone with his bag of shenanigans. He prances and shimmies and skips to the beat of his own crazed drummer. As KoKo, the Lord High Executioner, he gave a winning performance of “I’ve Got A Little List,” in which he rattled off all sorts of localized humor (written by Dan Mills, who also performed in the show).

The set design, by Johnson and Carolyn Waite, showed Japanese characters (which were actually haiku) and elegant nature scenes (painted with refinement by Pomona Shea) as backdrops. Mary Ellen Martel’s unadorned Japanese-style robes and suits of green, blue and brown were a perfect complement.

For some, it might have been strange seeing old familiar faces performing in a venue totally out of context with their traditions. I, for one, like the musty, dark and slightly cramped feeling of G&S performances at the Grand. That setting underscores the intimacy of this group and of the community.

Yet the appropriateness of staging such a delightful show at the MCA is unmistakable. A lesser troupe would have cowered in this upscale setting, but leave it to these folks to blossom even more when given the chance. They should have all the glitz they can find on their home turf because, clearly, they can match all of that with their shrewd talent and merry spirits.