While a logistical nightmare for both Arizona Theatre Company and audiences, I’m heartened to see the return of ATC’s RepFest, a chance for three scripts that might never fit into the season on their own to receive a regional theatre production. Craig Wright’s Molly’s Delicious inclusion into the RepFest probably has less to do with content and more to do with depth and breadth.

This ten year old script is quite sweet, very light, and funny in a fluffy way. It’s a true romantic comedy of the type that hasn’t been in vogue since the explosion of the sexual revolution. Ironically, it’s set in 1965, just as the first glimmers of said revolution were beginning. The focus of the central triangle is unwed and pregnant firebrand Alison (Adelia Saunders), a girl whose love (and her baby’s daddy) Jerry (Andrew Pastides) is in the Coast Guard in Viet Nam. Exiled from Connecticut to Uncle Lindy’s (Stephen D’Ambrose) apple overrun orchard in rural Minnesota, her meddling Aunt Cindy (Barbara Kingsley) is a realist who doesn’t believe Jerry will be coming back for damaged goods, so she sets her up with local boy Alec (Joe Binder), the son and heir of the local Willoughby Mortuary (Roberto Guajardo). Alec falls, Alison resists, and complications ensue.

Beyond the sweet and silly, there isn’t a lot here to work with for the director and cast. There’s a sitcom quality to the script in which it stubbornly resists deeper underlying mores in favor of facile innocence. But it holds true and steady to this resistance, so it retains its charm even as it starts to wear thin near the middle of the second act. With material spread so thinly, it is important that the actors and director (Aaron Posner) can make up for this with quirky presentations and controlled, but leisurely, pacing.

Posner does well for most of the evening at setting the right tone and timing. He creates some nice stage pictures on this roomy space, and he blocks his actors to balance frenetic sections with drifting slower ones. The longish interlude in act two featuring visual pyrotechnics from lighting designer Don Darnutzer and a slow negotiation looks pretty even as it feels draggy.

There is the requisite Minnesota accents from D’Ambrose, Kingsley, Binder, and Guajardo, but it is D’Ambrose and Binder who make it work the best for their characters. Kingsley’s chafing Aunt is too reminiscent of Granny from The Beverley Hillbillies in her cajoling and standoffishness. D’Ambrose takes his stock character and makes him loveable. But it’s the trio of Saunders, Binder, and Pastides who carry their roles triumphantly. Alison is a sandwich board of clichés, but Saunders invests herself wholeheartedly, so it works. Pastides is a dervish of energy, and his character’s grand schemes and brisk way are given life. It is Binder, however, who offers the strongest presentation, aided by having the most perceptible of character arcs. He fashions a series of ticks and vocal jitters that make this mortician in training instantly empathetic and a worthy underdog. He even makes believable the awkward plot point of love at first sight.

The design elements are limited by the repertory nature of the presentation, so Kris Stone’s flat perspective house and floating apples are good indicators without overwhelming. Their charm wears thin throughout, but there’s little else to do with this setting. Darnutzer’s lighting is stronger, with ample opportunity to support the moods of the piece through various day and nighttime settings. Kish Finnegan’s costumes are all indicative of character, period, and setting.