Cardboard cutouts clad with cartoon superheroes and banners featuring beloved Hollywood starlets bedeck the walls of the Movies at Wellington lobby, reminding patrons why film viewing has become such a time-tested American pastime. Buttered popcorn kernels glint through front counters like diamonds in a jewelry-store case, luring those who want a snack while watching the newest releases in digital projection or innovative RealD 3D display. Guests can also question ticket takers about birthday-party packages for 25 guests, which offer unlimited popcorn, soda refills, and a tour of the attic, in which the projectionist stores his hand puppets.
Matthew Altbuch started learning the art of circus performance at the tender age of eight, quickly mastering the unicycle, juggling, and the trapeze. Throughout school, he performed in talent shows, ultimately going on to spend time with the Florida State Flying High Circus after college. Eventually, he realized his passion lay in sharing the circus arts with others, so he founded Aerial Trapeze Academy to carry out his mission of training performers around the world. He now lives his dream, joined by three other teachers as he holds trapeze classes for the next generation of gravity-defiers.
Mos'Art Theatre, strives to fortify Palm Beach's cultural scene with "film, art, music, and hope," bolstering a sense of community and inspiring creative expression. Before even entering the theater, audiences pass paintings from local artists and the Art Bar, where they can sip a preshow beer or wine. In the intimate, 150-seat auditorium, the silver screen lights up with indie and foreign films, dazzling eyes and ears with stories that spotlight the human condition and let patrons cry in public without fear of banishment. The management duo, J.R. and Erin Coley, rounds out the commitment to elevating artistic discourse with live children's theater, creative classes, and an ongoing series tracking opera and ballet in the movies.
It's 1980-something. Glen, a young boy, dons a pair of glasses with one blue lens and one red, excited by this new technology that's supposed to make things on the screen pop out at you. During the next two hours, Glen ducks swooping avians during the revival of Alfred Hitchcock's ¬The Birds in 3-D, terrified, yet thrilled. This is one of Glen Gray's earliest memories about the theater his father built more than 30 years ago. Today, Glen lives out those moments each day as the proprietor of Movies of Delray, where the projectors roll a medley of Hollywood features and foreign, art-house, and independent films.
Gold walls and burgundy curtains lend the lobby an art-deco air, and a large chandelier illuminates more than 60 pencil drawings of movie icons of yore, such as John Wayne, Elvis, and Marilyn Monroe. This old-fashioned lobby disguises the updates within: brand-new bathrooms, granite countertops at the concession stand, and, in the theaters themselves, digital surround sound and updated seating. Rows of black leather seats cushion moviegoers with high backs and wide benches so cozy that Glen claims guests have fallen asleep in them, only waking up at the end of the picture or when Bruce Willis turns out to have been a metaphor all along.
In celebration of film, professor Shelly Isaacs graces the theater with screenings of obscure Oscar-winning or Oscar-nominated foreign films. After each screening, he discusses the film with audiences, dissecting and analyzing the cinematography, characters, and plot.
For two weekends every October, the sounds of laughter and German folk music echo across a field in Lake Worth. The American German Club's traditional Oktoberfest celebration, which sprawls across 10 acres under an open-air pavilion and a tent, has been going on for 40 years now and doesn't show any signs of stopping. Each day kicks off with the parade of flags and, sometimes, a ceremonial keg-tapping. Afterward, indoor and outdoor kitchens perpetually sizzle up authentic German bratwurst, leberkäse, and pastries. Meanwhile, bartenders pour four styles of Hofbräu Bier, as well as imported liquors and domestic brews. While vendors display traditional German crafts, the festival's stages erupt with folk-dancing, choral singing, and Bavarian tunes from two German groups, Heldensteiner Band and Die Lustigen Bayern.
Zombies created by an old factory’s chemical spill roam through the darkness, carnies banished for animal abuse and torture scream in the distance, and a murderous Santa greets visitors with a wicked grin and a bloody ax. These are just snapshots of the horrors awaiting visitors to Fright Nights at the South Florida Fairgrounds. Hair-raising creatures and the souls of murder victims lurk throughout four haunted mazes. At A Grim's Tale, grotesque creatures plucked straight from history's gristliest books lie in wait for unsuspecting readers. Sunnyvale Orphanage is overrun by terrible tots just looking for an excuse to misbehave... homicidally.
At the Smiths' terrifying new abode, screams echo over the sound of Morrissey records played backward, piercing the air of Country Bill’s Meat Market and joining shrieks coming from the midway itself. There, 13 rides, such as the High Flyer and Zero Gravity, whip passengers through the air. Food stalls nestle amid the attractions, tempting guests with hot dogs, tacos, funnel cakes, and tufts of cotton candy, which patrons can use as hair for the decoy body they place in their bed later that night.