SantaCon Doc Shows Journey From Playful Freedom to Drunken Chaos

Seth Porges’s new documentary tells the story of the world’s most infamous bar crawl. The film explores how what has now devolved into a drunken mess of red fabric, white faux fur, and cheap beer began as an event thrown for people to experience freedom, express themselves, and have some fun.

It premiers February 5th at the Roxie in San Francisco. Get tickets right here.

There’s a certain nostalgia surrounding the event me and my little brothers affectionately called “drunk Santa day” growing up. We’d see twenty-somethings stumbling down Columbus Avenue and laugh about how stupid it was, saying how we’d never do something like that. Mainly, for an 8 year old, seeing that much Santa was a reminder that Christmas was coming. Growing up around this phenomenon, I’ve been desensitized to it; it went from being a source of childhood amusement to a general annoyance and a day during which, without fail, I will avoid all my favorite dives as they are overrun by tipsy tech-bros decked out in cheap crimson, drenched in sweat and Coors Light. I’ve still never participated and until very recently, I’ve never thought SantaCon could be anything more than a gimmicky bar crawl that makes my day more difficult than necessary. 

However, in interviewing SantaCon creator Robert Schmitt and fellow organizer John Law, as well as finding out about and viewing Seth Porges’s new documentary SantaCon, it came to my attention that there may be something more to be said. What has become a day of national annoyance and disdain was not conceived with the intention of drunken havoc. Most importantly, Porges’s documentary left me asking- What can SantaCon OG teach us about the importance of playing in the world as adults? What can it show us about finding freedom in ridiculousness and unabashedly creating our own fun? 

I sat down with Robert Schmitt and John Law to discuss SantaCon and its legacy upon the release of Porges’s documentary in the city where it all began. Schmitt and Law were both primary members of the San Francisco Cacophony Society, which is responsible for such cultural phenomena as Burning Man. We met on a crowded morning at Caffe Triest, with guitar being played in the corner, the whir of the espresso machine in the background.

SantaCon was started in 1994, with 30 people participating and no intention of it becoming the drunken chaos it is today; it was intended as a one-off “classic” Cacophony prank. It was meant to be fun and spark onlookers to question what was happening around them. “The whole idea was not to fuck anybody’s time up. The whole idea with Cacophony [Society] doing pranks was not to be like Johnny Knoxville or whatever. It was to alter reality and peoples’ views of what they were doing for a moment,” Law explains, when reflecting on the early days of the event.  

The outcome of the first couple SantaCons spoke to the collaborative nature of its creation; it was as much about coming together and playing as adults- and in doing so creating community- as it was about the event itself.  “The fun part about Cacophony is that we were a team. Everybody helped. It was a very collaborative effort,” said Schmitt, speaking about his experience. Recounting further on the dynamic of SantaCon and the collective participation and commitment, he said,  “In the old days, the group ran with it. And we’d throw people in costumes and they'd have anonymity. Everybody had a beard. Everybody had their fake old-man glasses. And they’re a force of the same. Santa! More Santa!” 

Since the early days of SantaCon, it has taken on its own life and identity. It is notorious. It is often dreaded. Some may even go as far as to call it reviled- so much so that even John Oliver has criticized it openly on Last Week Tonight. However, while we have veered far off course from the 1994 rendition, SantaCon remains an event that brings people together to collectively experience something bigger than themselves- drunken and disorganized as it may be. “Santacon is not just 40,000 idiots in New York barfing on the street. There are small communities where they’d have a Santacon with 30 people and raise money for the local charity. There are all these little Santacons all over. And we didn’t plan that,” remarked Law, emphasizing the reach of the event. Even in big cities where night life is emphasized, events like SantaCon act as a formative going out experience for young people to come together, have fun with people they don’t know, and be a bit stupid. Whether we want to admit it or not, experiences and spaces that provide that opportunity are important. 

“The thing about Santacon is that it gave people ideas to go out and play,” Schmitt reflected. This was perhaps the most important takeaway for me from this conversation. SantaCon not only exemplifies how people take on ideas and, for better or worse, help them evolve into something new, but it also presents them with an opportunity to create something of their own, regardless of how outlandish it may seem. It reminds people that they too can create their own fun.

Porges takes on this perspective in SantaCon when exploring its origins, recognizing public criticism while also presenting the joy to be found in this sort of creative collaboration. “[He] could have easily made a movie that could have been funny about what complete assholes we were, and stupid asshole Santas right? It would have been very easy, with the footage, to make that movie. But [Seth] saw what the core of the event was. It wasn’t just to be an asshole. That wasn’t the intention at all,” said Law, when thinking back on the decision to be a part of the documentary project. 

Not only that, but the documentary also created space for personal reflection on the legacy of the event Cacophony originally created versus what it’s become. While Schmitt has continued to participate in SantaCon and love the event despite its changes, Law had a bit of a different perspective, “I don’t hate it as much as I did and that’s part of it. That’s in the movie too. I had to reevaluate. People are doing it- they’re young people having fun. Who are we to judge them? That was a profound thing for me.”

The biggest takeaway from speaking to both Schmitt and Law and in viewing the documentary, was the importance of continuing to play as adults and the ability for play to bring people together. “Ideas are free. Playing can be free. So many things have come out of the things we used to do for nothing,” Schmitt reminds me towards the end of our conversation. “Non-commercial, community-based, creative collaborating. Super important,” emphasizes Law. It’s important to retain whimsy, to find joy in silliness, to remind ourselves that sometimes, being serious is overrated and we should let ridiculousness win.

SantaCon is complicated in its legacy. It is no longer the event the Cacophony Society created. With each passing year, it feels more chaotic and messy. I don’t think it will be something I will participate in anytime soon, probably ever. However, I can definitively say I would miss it were it to disappear, not just for the nostalgia of me and my brothers laughing on street corners, but also the playfulness it was born out of. 

Whether you love it, hate it, participate in it, or avoid it at all costs, the documentary on SantaCon, SantaCon, directed by Seth Porges, is playing at the Roxie on February 5th as a part of San Francisco IndieFest. Take an evening to check it out and have a little bit of fun. You can check out the trailer for yourself here. 

SF IndieFest: Santacon

Director: Seth Porges

First Showing 6:15 PM
February 5, 2026
At The Roxie, SF 
Tickets HERE