Napkins aren’t funny. Neither are sticks, paper cups, popcorn or toilet paper for that matter.

Put any of them in the hands of a charming mime named Avner the Eccentric and they’re downright hilarious. Just ask any of the 90 people who filled the Wayside Theater in Dexter on Valentine’s Day.

Avner the Eccentric is the creation of Avner Eisenberg of Peaks Island, and his Saturday performance was a valuable gift to the theater so it could put on a fund-raiser. His name may not be a household word, but he has a recognizable face. Just check the Internet.

Avner, who has appeared on Broadway and in several motion pictures, is a master at vaudevillian humor – the purest kind there is. Threaded throughout his 11/2-hour performance were a few running gags that involved serious physical exertion, but the broad-smiled gentleman didn’t seem to break a sweat.

This mime’s humor is best described as that of Victor Borge’s, but without the piano. His blend of magic, juggling and plain ol’ haphazardness kept the audience, ranging from 3-year-olds to 80-somethings, continually belly laughing.

Avner’s antics seemed simple enough, but his routine, on par with “I Love Lucy” and “Captain Kangaroo,” was comedic genius. He took basic materials that everyone can relate to and played with them in ways everyone wishes they could. Lucy had the malfunctioning candy machine. The Captain had Mr. Moose, who liked to drop pingpong balls on the fatherly gent. And Avner has a hat that refuses to stay on, and his act also includes a “wardrobe malfunction” – his pants fall down to reveal oversized boxer shorts.

What shone about Avner’s performance, particularly in this era of narcissistic entertainers, was the interaction with the audience that was part of his act.

My 4-year-old daughter, MaggieBeth, raised her arms to cheer “yeah” every time Avner’s hat made it back to his head. Lauren, my 3-year-old, caught the jokes well before the adults and would roar with laughter. They both were taking notes – “squirting water out of both sides of my mouth? Cool!”

After the show ended, most of the children gathered at the front of the stage, and the kindly man sat down to sign autographs. He even reminded them that although he gave them popcorn, they should never accept candy from strangers. His offering was part of the act, he told them, and their parents were nearby to give permission.

In conversation, Avner said that if he tried to market his show to children, he would have to give up the job that he loves. No theater, whether a community playhouse or a Broadway stage, would book a kids-only act. He would need music, they would tell him, or props that could be spun off into a line of toys.

Mass marketing, Avner said, would become his focus, his voice, and the act itself would suffer because of this.

That’s a shame. His charismatic, calming appeal, as demonstrated on Saturday, is refreshing. Just like the Captain’s.

My daughters never heard Avner’s comments on commercialism. They were focused on the signatures he placed next to his picture in their programs. “That’s you,” said Lauren, pointing to the picture as she showed it to him.

On the way home, MaggieBeth and Lauren couldn’t stop talking about Avner. For at least a half-hour, he replaced their current always-on-their-mind favorite, “The Nutcracker.”

“And after we watch ‘The Nutcracker,’ we can get a video of him and watch it!” Lauren exclaimed.

If only it were that simple, sweetie.

Deborah Turcotte can be reached at 990-8133 or Dturcotte@bangordailynews.net.