You’re walking down 14th Street, past the usual Castro-adjacent storefronts, and then you see it. Or rather, you see the heavy wooden doors that look like they belong on a cargo plane that crashed into a tropical jungle. That’s Last Rites San Francisco. It’s not your grandma’s tiki bar with dusty plastic leis and syrupy mai tais that taste like liquid candy. Honestly, it’s darker. Grittier. It feels like the set of an Indiana Logan movie if the protagonist gave up adventuring to become a world-class mixologist.
The vibe is "Polynesian Noir."
Most people think tiki is just about pineapples. They're wrong. At Last Rites, the bar itself is literally built from a salvaged airplane fuselage. You sit on stools made from plane seats, staring at a backbar that looks like a stone idol shrine. It’s moody as hell. The lighting is low enough that you can barely see your menu, which is exactly how a shipwrecked survivor would want it.
What Sets Last Rites San Francisco Apart From the Pack?
San Francisco is basically the holy land for tiki culture. You've got the Tonga Room with its indoor rainstorms and Smuggler’s Cove with its legendary rum list. So, where does Last Rites San Francisco fit in? It occupies the space between high-concept theater and serious craft cocktail temple. While other spots lean into the kitsch, Last Rites leans into the story.
The narrative here is the "Last Rites" ceremony for a crashed flight. It’s macabre but somehow cozy.
The drink program, headed by industry veterans who actually know their way around an overproof rum, doesn't rely on sugar to hide cheap spirits. They use real juice. Fresh spices. House-made syrups that probably take three days to simmer. When you order a drink here, you aren't just getting a cocktail; you're getting a chemistry project served in a custom ceramic mug that looks like a shrunken head or a pile of skulls.
The Drinks You Actually Need to Order
Don't just walk in and ask for a vodka soda. Please. You're in a temple of rum.
The "Last Rites" signature cocktail is the obvious starting point. It’s a blend of rums, passion fruit, and their secret "Last Rites" mix. It’s punchy. It’s complex. It will probably make your ears ring if you drink it too fast on an empty stomach. If you want something that feels like a tropical vacation gone slightly off the rails, try the Jock Lindsey—named after the pilot in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
- The Kali Ma: Spicy, tart, and dangerous.
- The Merciless Sun: For people who think they hate tiki because it’s "too sweet." It’s bright and refreshing.
- The Marine Layer: A nod to the thick fog that rolls over Twin Peaks just a few blocks away.
The bartenders here are obsessive. You’ll see them shaving nutmeg with the precision of a diamond cutter. They treat the ice like it’s a precious mineral. Honestly, watching them work is half the fun of sitting at the fuselage bar. They don't mind questions, either, as long as the place isn't slammed with the Friday night crowd.
The Architecture of a Shipwreck
Let’s talk about the decor because it’s insane. Brian Sheehy and the team at Future Bars (the folks behind Bourbon & Branch and Pagan Idol) spent a fortune making this place look authentic. The "plane" parts aren't just cheap sheet metal. They have texture. They have rivets.
The walls are lined with over 150 rums.
There are massive stone heads that look like they were looted from a temple in Cambodia. The greenery is lush, hanging from the ceiling in a way that makes you feel claustrophobic in a good way. It’s an immersive experience that starts the second those heavy doors creak open and ends when you stumble back out onto the foggy San Francisco streets, blinking at the N-Judah train passing by.
Is it hard to get in?
Kinda. It depends on the night.
If you show up at 9:00 PM on a Saturday, expect a line. It’s a small space, and they don't like to jam people in like sardines because it ruins the "lost in the jungle" vibe. They take reservations for groups, which is basically a cheat code for a good night. If you’re a solo traveler or a duo, your best bet is to hit it right when they open.
There’s no food. Well, not really. They might have some small snacks, but you should definitely eat a burrito at El Farolito or a burger nearby before you start diving into the navy-strength rums. These drinks are significantly stronger than they taste. The citrus and spice mask the alcohol content so well that you don't realize you're buzzing until you try to stand up from your airplane seat.
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Why the "Dark Tiki" Trend is Exploding
For decades, tiki was seen as a joke. It was the stuff of tacky Hawaiian shirts and Jimmy Buffett songs. But Last Rites San Francisco is part of a new wave that treats the genre with respect. They acknowledge the escapism but add a layer of sophistication and "edge" that appeals to a younger, more design-conscious crowd.
It's about the "adventure" aspect of the mid-century tiki craze, rather than just the "beach" aspect.
The soundtrack isn't just surf rock. You might hear atmospheric drone music, old-school exotica, or weirdly hypnotic tribal beats. It adds to the sense of unease and wonder. You aren't at a party; you're at a secret gathering in a place the map forgot.
The E-E-A-T Factor: Who is Behind This?
The expertise at Last Rites comes from years of experience in the San Francisco bar scene. Future Bars Group is known for their "speakeasy" style, where the environment is just as important as the liquid in the glass. They hire bartenders who are essentially historians of spirits. If you ask about the difference between a Jamaican pot-still rum and a Rhum Agricole from Martinique, they won't look at you like you're crazy. They'll give you a five-minute masterclass.
This isn't a pop-up. It's a permanent fixture of the Duboce Triangle.
While some critics argue that tiki culture can veer into cultural appropriation, Last Rites leans more into the "pulp fiction" and "aviation" side of things. It’s a fantasy world. It’s a movie set you can drink in. They avoid some of the more egregious tropes of the 1950s and instead focus on the "adventure" aesthetic.
How to Do Last Rites Right
If you want the full experience, don't rush it.
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Start with something light and citrus-forward. Talk to the person sitting next to you—chances are they’re either a local who lives in the apartments upstairs or a cocktail nerd who traveled across the city just for a specific rum flight.
- Check the lighting. Your phone photos will look terrible unless you have a steady hand or a friend to hold a "candle" (the fake ones on the table).
- Respect the fuselage. Don't pick at the plane parts.
- Watch the "throne." There’s a specific seat at the end of the bar that feels like you’re the captain of the crashed ship. Claim it if it’s open.
- Drink water. Seriously. The "Zombie" variations here will wreck you.
Last Rites is a reminder that San Francisco, despite all the talk of it changing, still has pockets of pure, unadulterated weirdness. It’s a place where you can disappear for a few hours. No windows. No clocks. Just the sound of a cocktail shaker and the feeling that you’re miles away from the tech offices and the traffic of Market Street.
Beyond the Rum: The Community
What's really cool is how the neighborhood has embraced it. You'll see people in full tiki gear—vintage shirts, hibiscus hair clips—mingling with techies in Patagonia vests. It’s a weird melting pot.
The bar also hosts events, like the "Exotica" nights where DJs spin rare vinyl from the 50s and 60s. It’s a niche subculture, but it’s a passionate one. If you hang out long enough, you’ll start to recognize the "regulars" who have their own favorite mugs tucked away or who know exactly which rum is being added to the seasonal menu before it’s even announced.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
To make the most of your trip to Last Rites San Francisco, follow this blueprint:
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- Timing: Aim for a Tuesday or Wednesday evening around 6:00 PM. You'll get the pick of the seats and can actually chat with the bartenders about the decor and the spirits.
- Transportation: Do not drive. Parking in Duboce Triangle is a nightmare, and after two drinks, you shouldn't be behind a wheel anyway. The N-Judah stops right nearby, and Ubers are plentiful.
- The "Secret" Move: Ask about their rare rum list. They have bottles that you simply cannot find at a standard liquor store. If you're a connoisseur, this is where the real treasure is hidden.
- Attire: You don't need a suit, but don't show up in gym clothes. Wear something that makes you feel like an extra in an adventure movie. A decent button-down or a vintage dress fits the vibe perfectly.
- Budgeting: Expect to pay $16–$22 per cocktail. It’s San Francisco prices, but the quality of the ingredients and the atmosphere justify the cost. Think of it as a ticket to a show where you get to drink the props.
Ultimately, Last Rites isn't just a bar; it's a piece of immersive theater. It’s a testament to the city’s love for the eccentric and the expertly crafted. Whether you’re a rum fanatic or just someone looking for a dark corner to hide in for an hour, it delivers a level of detail that most bars wouldn't even attempt. It’s gritty, it’s beautiful, and it’s undeniably SF.
Go for the plane fuselage. Stay for the overproof rum. Just make sure you remember where you parked your (literal or metaphorical) plane before you have that third cocktail.