Some know him as Dr. Funkenstein. Some call him Mr. Wiggles the Worm. Others hail him as the commander of The Mothership. Yet apart his many monikers and stage names, George Clinton has established himself as the father of funk. He has spent a lifetime bringing righteous beats to the dance-starved masses and now continues on into his eighth decade. The Rock and Roll Hall of Famer and his bass-thumping bandmates set bodies in motion without installing conveyor belts into the floors as they infiltrate the airwaves with hits such as "Flashlight," "Atomic Dog," and "Do Fries Go With That Shake?"
At Northern Lights Theatre Pub, audience members sip riesling and sink forks into chicken breasts as movie families sit down to dinner on the silver screen. Cinema-goers order their meals before sitting down to watch second-run flicks, letting waiters ferry their pulled-pork burritos or Angus burgers right to their seats so they don’t miss a screen couple’s passionate first kiss, tender final embrace, or heartwarming jump from an exploding helicopter. In addition to finger foods, the chefs take their fare up a notch by layering personal pizzas with housemade sauce, sprinkling parmesan cheese and squeezing lemon juice over chicken breasts, and piling pineapple atop their banana splits. Before evening films light up the theaters, Northern Lights’ full-service bar kicks into gear, leading to age restrictions so that moviegoers can freely sip on-tap beers such as Blue Moon and Gilgamesh Mamba or wash down bites with chardonnay and shiraz. In addition to screening blockbuster movies, the theater pub’s three auditoriums occasionally show sports or host live shows such as standup comedy.
Nestled beneath the luminous beacon of its old-timey marquee, the Clinton Street Theater cements its status as Portland’s oldest continuously running independent film house with a rotating slate of foreign films, documentaries, and cult classics. Weekly screenings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Repo: The Genetic Opera draw fervent cultists dressed as their favorite characters and boom-mic operators, complementing screenings of splattery horror flicks with thought-provoking opera from rising and renowned auteurs. The cylindrical glow from a whirring projector jets across the Clinton’s spacious theater, illumining arrivals from such directors as Sidney Lumet and Gus Van Sant, who is notorious for instructing his actors to break character midfilm to challenge texting film-goers to bare-knuckle brawls.
In the introductory class, a professional fire-dancing coach will cover basic poi movements performed on the sides of the body, such as weaves, spins, corkscrews, and more. The flameless poi used during the class neatly mimic the weight and feeling of fire, ensuring that when you decide to move on to fire for performance, crime fighting, or just make grilling a steak overly dramatic, you'll be ready.
Cinema 21 may offer daily showings of new Hollywood and independent flicks, but it also tries to get patrons interacting more with movies, rather than simply coming to see a blockbuster and then leaving. It does this by following up screenings with Q&A sessions with major filmmakers, including Wim Wenders and Steven Soderbergh. The theater hosts fun sing-along screenings as well, which invite attendees to belt out the tunes of their favorite movie musicals. Cinema 21 even brings international work to American shores by participating in several film festivals throughout the year.