I round off my look at Christmas documentaries with the far-more upbeat I Am Santa Claus, an interesting, if not exactly revelatory look at what the rest of the year is like for a group of professional Santa Claus portrayers. Director Tommy Avallone’s 2014 film records a year in the lives of five bearded Santa lookalikes, including - of all people - WWE wrestling superstar Mick Foley. Seeing the humdrum existence of some of these guys for eleven months out of the year is quite sobering but the film also feels quite scattershot - I’m not sure what the point of any of this actually is? I don’t think many of us ever actually believe that mall Santas have much in common behind the scenes other than sometimes having a big belly and impressive facial fuzz.
Seeing ‘behind the beard’ as it were, we discover that these guys have just as many problems as the rest of us, dealing with divorce, job loss, insecurity and loneliness, though they can all look forward to the holiday season where, for a few weeks, they get to feel like superhumans. The men we meet here are all flawed but clearly feel a responsibility to uphold the integrity and reputation of the jolly old soul whose brand they represent.
In one of the film’s most moving narratives we meet a gay Santa who spends all year long ruefully pining for his long distance lover. It’s a surreal sight to see this ‘Santa’ attending a “Bear” convention, where large, hairy, grizzled gay men are celebrated and equally heartwarming to hear him say that his sexuality has never been an issue in his mall Santa work. Oh yeah, he also freely admits that he does nude modelling. Yikes.
Elsewhere, there’s a tattooed ex-rocker who talks of the wonder of dyeing his hair and beard white and discovering people are suddenly no longer frightened of him but are now desperate for their kids to sit on his lap. This one-time hellraiser falls in love with the concept so much he legally changes his name to Santa Claus. It’s mad but sublime, like watching someone come out of the closet and finally finding comfort in their own skin.
A really thought-provoking moment comes when one of our Santas attends a “Santa Convention” where attendees are furious as word spreads that their chairman is a swinger who attends sex orgy clubs. It’s engrossing to watch a group of Santa lookalikes heatedly debating whether a guy’s personal - and totally legal - quirks should affect his right to dress up and entertain children. Considering we’ve already witnessed one ‘salty’ Santa, pissed as a fart, spouting borderline racist jokes, it’s compelling to watch that same guy wrestle with his feelings about the moral standards a Santa should aspire to.
The most interesting of all our Santas is definitely Foley who, despite his terrifying image as the fearsome “Mankind” of wrestling fame, turns out to be a closet sweetheart and all-round family man who’s obsessed with Christmas. He recounts with dewy eyes how becoming a father and a moving encounter with a disabled child have inspired him to moonlight as the bearded gift-giver. He describes this as “a calling” and talks openly about deliberately conceiving another child because he was genuinely worried about no longer having a good reason to visit a local ‘Santa’s Village’ attraction with his family. It’s hilarious to see Foley attempt to explain his Santa obsession to fellow WWE legend ‘Rowdy’ Roddy Piper who tries to act cool about it, but looks totally bemused.
I’m not sure what the film is trying to say, other than Santas come in all shapes and sizes but it still manages to get me right in the ‘feels’. The final scenes where Foley spends a cosy Christmas with his two youngest sons, trying to catch the “real” Santa on camera are a real emotional highlight. This hulk of a man waxes lyrical about the importance of keeping the magic of the season alive in the eyes of our children and the sight of his boys going apeshit when the “real” Santa finally turns up brings a tear to my eye. Today is Amelia’s last day of nursery before Summer and she’s growing up so fast. I only hope we can hang on to this little, innocent, spirited true-believer for at least a few years longer.
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