On TV

“The Carbonaro Effect,” 10 p.m. Thursdays, TruTV

The illusions themselves would be neat on a stage. Disappearing from the trunk of a car. Lifting a bowling ball out of a package about the size of a pizza box. Turning what appears to be a broken duck decoy into a real duck.

But on TruTV’s “The Carbonaro Effect,” which debuted to solid ratings last week, Michael Carbonaro pulls these tricks off at Atlanta’s Georgian Terrace, a shipping store and a local thrift store, respectively.

The 32-year-old New Yorker spent several weeks earlier this year pretending to be an employee or customer at various Atlanta locales, confounding and surprising dozens of unsuspecting locals.

“Nobody knows I’m a magician,” Carbonaro said. “I’m a guy in the park. I’m a guy behind the bar. I’m a guy at a porta-potty. I play kind of dumb.”

Carbonaro’s unassuming, nice-guy persona and improvisational skills help make the show work. He’s so convincing that others believe his often absurdist patter. He explained that the duck decoy had to be discontinued because hunters would shoot it, thinking it looked too real. And he explained to a befuddled customer how a bowling ball can fit in a pizza box by a faux scientific concept he dubbed “inverting the air.”

Carbonaro said he has been inspired for years by Allen Funt’s groundbreaking hidden-camera show “Candid Camera,” although it aired before he was born. (“I ordered all the DVDs,” he said.)

He began doing bits similar to what’s on “The Carbonaro Effect’ for NBC’s “Tonight Show” when Jay Leno was host.

Carbonaro enjoyed his time in Atlanta, calling local residents “sweet and welcoming.” At the same time, he said, “some folks are so polite, it was a challenge for me to open them up a bit.”

Most people fooled by his tricks were cool once they were told what was going on. But at Pancho’s Mexican restaurant on Buford Highway, Carbonaro had a problem.

“I pretended to be a guy who made table-side guacamole,” he said. “As I cut open a guacamole, a live snake comes out. I convinced the customers that this is an ancient Mexican omen and means good luck for the rest of their lives.”

The customers loved the trick but told him adamantly they could not be on camera. At first, he thought they were in the witness protection program. But they admitted to him what the real issue was: They were having an affair.