They’re rebels without a Claus.
The founders of SantaCon are forced to reckon with the boozy global sensation they unintentionally created three decades ago in a new documentary — which reveals the Big Apple might have been the major turning point in its story.
“SANTACON” — premiering Thursday at DOC NYC — explores the little-known history of how an absurdist art performance morphed into the drunken day of debauchery punctuated with arrests, sickness and disturbing public acts that is feared around the world today.
“It’s a story about bigger ideas. It was a story about change, about moving on, about passing the torch to a new generation and coming to terms with a new reality that might be different from the one you’re used to,” explained director Seth Porges, the genius behind the 2020 film Class Action Park.
“SANTACON” utilizes hours and hours of home video from the early days of the Santa Claus-trophobic event, which its founders initially called “Santarchy.”
The red and white takeover first hit San Francisco in 1994 as the brainchild of the Cacophony Society — an anarchist group that created Burning Man and inspired “Fight Club.”
But the idea by founders Rob Schmitt, John Law and Chris Radcliffe was very different from the drunken mess we know today. Their version saw hundreds of individuals dressed as Santa Claus frolicking through the city, storming into restaurants and taking over malls for the thrill of it.
While some substance abuse may have been present, it wasn’t the goal.
“You see somebody wake up from this zombie-like thing into ‘Holy s–t. There’s something going on around here that I can’t account for.’ It created a sense of wonder,” Radcliffe explained in the film in an interview that preceded his death to cancer last year.
There was certainly another goal lurking underneath the performative art piece: to be silly and stupid.
“Random absurdism was the point. But within that random absurdism, we all can put our own message onto it, our own interpretation, our own feelings about this thing and unearth something within all of us,” explained Porges.
“It kind of jolts you out of that routine and scrambles your notion of what is possible in this world. And maybe, maybe sparks a little bit of joy and possibly creativity … Here’s something you’ve never seen before. Now what are you going to go?”
It’s hard to believe now, but SantaCon was a major hit that first time. Homemade video shows revelers smiling ear-to-ear and dancing along as the bearded Saint Nicks suddenly swarmed the city.
It was not without its tribulations, however. Two people were arrested that first year. The next year, the Cacophony Society took Santarchy to Portland, where word that they were terrorists beat them to the city and they were met by police in riot gear.
Other Cacophony Society chapters began taking off throughout the country and starting their own Santarchies, and that’s where the splintering of values began — notably with a 1997 booze-soaked bash in Malibu, the documentary explains.
The last Santarchy took place in New York City in 1998. The incredible footage shows the Santas climbing the Brooklyn Bridge, singing carols after finding film director Michael Moore on the streets of Manhattan and even joking with cops who were elated to see the ridiculous display.
“We’re having a hell of a time. I think New York is the right place to do this,” Law says in the old footage.
“This Santa run to me is my favorite one, along with the very first one, because it’s just the serendipity is clicking. Nobody’s made at us that we can tell. We’re having a good time. We’re spreading good cheer wherever we go. Confusing people a lot, which is good. And everything’s just working.”
Law was prepared to pull the plug on the annual event after the Big Apple trip, but by then it was too late.
SantaCon had taken a life of its own and had morphed into a booze-focused, fratty party that forces many New Yorkers to spend the day hiding in the safety of their homes.
In recent years, Law has expressed mixed feelings about his hand in creating the SantaCon monster — until he and Schmitt returned to the scene of the crime in the closing scenes of the film.
The pair, initially skeptical, were overcome with joy and gratitude as they met with young revelers who quite literally worshipped the two aging men.
The kids wers having fun and that’s all that mattered, they lamented.
“Everything changes. And to me, the big takeaway from the movie is how. Rather than allowing themselves to be upset and angry that their creation has changed so much, the owners have just accepted the fact that it’s okay that this isn’t for them anymore. It’s okay that other people are going to do their own thing and hopefully inspire some new folks to do new things,” said Porges.
