Speaking of which, the cast is a joy. Opening night featured the 19-year-old Gianna Casale as Dorothy. She dutifully captured the requisite energy of any proper Dorothy. She played the role with the perfect blend of wary anxiety and moral insistence, leading to dynamic chemistry with each of her three travel compatriots. Additionally, she aced the test to which all Dorothys have to adhere: her “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” the Judy Garland staple, was as measured of a performance as it calls to be. She blended the hopeful, yearnful wanting of the character in the moment and made beautiful choices throughout, specifically on the end note.

The production of “Almost, Maine” at Eventide was certainly lovely. The performance bills itself as a romantic comedy, yet stopping at such a characterization wouldn’t be appropriate. While it has couples navigating the requisite awkward silences of needing to say “I love you” or embracing the ambiguity in relationships, the play itself is so much more than what popular audiences may think of when they hear the phrase. Individually, each scene may seem akin to a 100-days-of Christmas special, but when pieced together, the play attempts to say something much more. Cariani’s play is a treatise on what it is to love, and Bishop’s adaptation certainly fits the bill.

As Cow 1 and Cow 2, Chelsey Brown and Trish LaRose are the epitome of two siblings: one loud and ready to take on the world (LaRose) and the other sensible and rational. Hen (Emily Murray) and Cow 2 are constantly bickering and their squabbles are not only relatable to youngsters but hilarious for everyone. “You’re chicken!” yells Cow 2. “You’re a COW-ard!” responds Hen. Poor Cow 1 has to play referee more than once. But they are united in their dilemma: they’re cold and they’ve had enough. This trio of performers are so perfectly in sync and a delight to watch.

Peter Steedman is Midas, a man of business with a larger-than-life personality, as well as the thoughtless Erysichthon, who refuses to heed the warning of the gods, chops down a beloved tree and is cursed by hunger. Maeve Moriarty is charming as the shy Vertumnus, god of springtime, trying to win over the nature-loving Pomona and later as Phaeton, whose estrangement from his father warrants a humorous visit with a therapist (Janet Geist Moore). Phaeton wants what every teen wants: the keys to dad’s car. Except in this case, it’s the chariot Apollo drives across the sky each morning to summon the day.

Stewart is phenomenal. His sneer in the beginning of the show sets you back in your seat, and then in contrast his joy at the end of the tale is infectious. This show is sure to send you off with a smile on your face. Stewart is surrounded by 17 young and old talented Cape Cod performers, all decked out in period costumes. Bob Cratchet (Andy Bonwit), Mrs. Cratchet (Julianne Bonwit) and their children (Teddi Bonwit, Sam Bonwit, and Aria Nickerson) are here. Nickerson is adorable as Tiny Tim. Scrooge’s nephew Fred (Em Entwistle) and guests ignore Scrooge’s lack of seasonal spirit with true aplomb. Steph DeFarrie is downright spooky as the ghost of Jacob Marley; I loved the sound effects of his chains. They, along with Nichole Shaw, Oliver Shaw, Kate Seeley, Coco Kemp, Kai Brimdyr, Isabella Petrov and Chelsey Augenti convey the participants in the many scenes the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future (Juliet Seeley, Kate Martin and Karen McPherson) show Scrooge.

Annie and her fellow orphan girls are living the “Hard Knock Life” with the nasty Miss Hannigan. Annie (Phoebe Murray Schuessler) dreams of her parents who abandoned her as a baby 11 years before, and when she sings of her hopes in “Maybe,” there’s not a dry eye in the house. The young performer also nails the poignantly optimistic anthem “Tomorrow.” As little orphan Annie, Schuessler tugs at your heart strings more than once with her emotion-filled singing and a definitively wise twinkle in her eye. She shares the role with Sylvie Weimer. What a treat to see a real dog as Sandy (Handsome Rain), Annie’s dog. He’s adorable and very obedient.

The set design is the first thing you notice when stepping into the arena at the Academy of Performing Arts. Nothing is behind a drape. A somber white moon is centered, bracketed by a tuft of spindly trees that appear as if they came straight from the dreams of Hans Christian Andersen. Further stage right is a large stone tower with a wooden window. Beyond that, atop a flight of stairs, is a nook for the narrator. Stage left, high atop a platform, is the land of the giants, awash with vines and trees and seemingly insignificant until Jack literally climbs down from it during “Giants in the Sky” in the middle of Act One. The arena, the circular round in the middle of the theater seating, is coated with leaves and stone, providing a link between the audience and the players. From Cinderella’s birds that would venture down from the ceiling to characters observing the action from behind a tree, the design of the set pairs perfectly with the room and the narrative, crafting that type of storybook woods anyone would imagine in a story like this one.

Amazingly this play portrays nearly every scene in the book: Jo’s friendship with next door neighbor Laurie (Kamalei Hill), Mr. Lawrence’s (Joe Theroux) affection for Beth, Jo and Amy’s fight and the consequential skating incident, Beth’s illness, Meg’s romance, Aunt March’s (Amanda Gordon) visits, Jo’s adventure in New York City with Professor Bhaer (John O’Hara) and more. Skinner shines as Jo — all spark and drive — with a presence that feels almost magical. Perry’s Meg glows beside suitor John Brooke (Brandon Ritchie, Jr.). Calla Hellstrom captures Beth’s gentle fragility wonderfully, and Violet Hellstrom nails Amy’s big flaws and bigger charms. LeCroix offers a Marmee both wise and vulnerable. The entire cast’s commitment inspired cheers, sighs, and warm applause on opening night. It’s heartwarming to see these young actors embrace the messages of a show that stresses the bonds of family.

It’s so interesting seeing the levels of transformation as actors playing actors adjust their performances to their characters. No one in this troupe is ever winning an Oscar, and everyone seems to delight in their over-the-top work. Halley has a particularly difficult job: playing an “actor” who has never acted before, keeping the internal show going in his role as Scrooge while at the same time showing that the stage manager isn’t quite sure about—or ready for—this acting gig. It leads to some over-acting that’s particularly funny.

If I had to pick a favorite song, “My Blanket and Me” was very much the fun kind of weird. What starts off as Linus protesting that he doesn’t need his blanket eventually crumbles as he delivers a speech in song that ends up becoming a dance number with a brought-to-life blanket played by Teddy Bonwit. It was goofy and heartfelt, and it’s been making me chuckle ever since I saw it. “Suppertime” and “The Book Report” are close seconds.