‘Mrs. Mannerly’ makes it worthwhile to behave

Las Vegas Little Theatre’s tender presentation of Jeffrey Hatcher’s “Mrs. Mannerly” is like a sweet little ditty about an era gone by, like a fleeting memory of a childhood moment filtered affectionately through the eyes of a man long grown.

Mrs. Mannerly would frown upon the use of the word “like” in the previous sentence, as she charges a quarter-cent fine for the indecorous use of words.

Hatcher’s wistful semiautobiographical play takes place in Stubenville, Ohio, in 1967 during a time of tumultuous change, when suffocating propriety was being replaced by widespread liberation. Stuffy, Victorian-era etiquette is on the way out.

But 9-year-old Jeffrey has a penchant for disrupting quiet moments and is enrolled in “Mrs. Mannerly’s School of Manners,” an eight-week course about posture and the taking of tea. The otherwise well-behaved Jeffrey seizes the opportunity to perfect his politeness since he’s not good at sports or anything outdoorsy.

He seeks a coveted 100 percent score on the final recitation, which is taken before the Daughters of the American Revolution, or as Mrs. Mannerly likes to say, the “DAR biddies.”

Since a perfect mark never has been achieved in the 36 years of Mrs. Mannerly’s class, the unusually wise Jeffrey attempts to blackmail her with potentially sordid information he has obtained about her past. But “loyalty, too, is a form of manners” and feeling connected, he refrains from revealing the truth.

While this is a cruel little conflict in Hatcher’s sometimes spotty and often antithetically unwholesome script, director Walter Niejadlik doesn’t let it come off that way. Being a fond-memory play, the show is a gently dreamy, effortless staging, with a smooth and steady pace. And Niejadlik keeps his cast of two agreeably grounded without allowing much hamminess, playing for goodnatured rather than exaggerated laughs.

Two cast members play 12 vibrant characters. Gillen Brey thoroughly inhabits the role of Mrs. Mannerly, giving a lovable dimension to the prim lady who in less capable hands might seem too rigid. When she channels her idol Emily Post through an alcoholic haze, explaining to Jeffrey that “good manners reflect something from inside” we hear tinges of melancholy.

Since she is a recollection of Jeffrey’s, her look, by costumer Jennifer McKee, is almost cartoonish, with a voluminous silver updo, polkadot dress and white pearls all a humorous wink to the past.

Michael Blair is put through the proverbial ringer playing not only the roles of presentday Jeffrey and young Jeffrey, but also juggling the characterizations of his family and five crazy classmates. He switches from one character to the next with incredible ease, comfortably delineating and bringing alive the people who are figments of his imagination.

There’s Chucky, who struts around with a superior air, and the lively Kim, who is fastest in the hilarious cutlery-placing contest. The nasally Ralph is really gross, with a drippy nose that he constantly wipes with his hand and smears on his head, while the unimpressed Jamie explodes about her unhappy homelife. There’s also Jeffrey’s dance partner, Patsy, an older, former star student and the antithesis of manners in all her gum-popping glory. It’s an impressive performance.

An exact replica of a real, huge photo of an old manners class that is displayed prominently onstage, Ron Linblom’s set gives us a beautifully weathered look at the second-floor rumpus room of the YMCA where the classes take place. And Ginny Adams’ lights provide warmth and effectively quiet transitions which reflect different characters and their moods.

In an apparent nod to Las Vegas Mrs. Mannerly says, “what happens in class, stays in class.”

We seem to have forgotten the Golden Rule.