The irony isn’t lost on them. After decades of riding smoke trails across the American cultural landscape, Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong were recently smoked out of their own homes—by none other than the Palisades wildfire.
“I had to de-smoke my house,” Chong says with his signature giggle. “Can you imagine that?”
The fire didn't take their homes, nestled in the Pacific Palisades, but it did uproot them. Still, for a duo who made their names drifting across highways and hazy clouds, displacement almost feels like a return to form. And in many ways, it is.
Now, the legendary counterculture comedians are back on the road—cinematically at least—with Cheech & Chong's Last Movie, a surreal, reflective ride through the desert in search of a place aptly named “The Joint.” The film isn’t just another stoner romp. It’s a meta journey into their past, their mythos, and their enduring friendship.
From Smoke to Stardom
Cheech Marin, the son of a LAPD officer, grew up in Watts and later fled to Canada to avoid the Vietnam War draft. It was there that he met Tommy Chong, whose Chinese father and Scotch-Irish mother raised him in a culturally rich and musically inclined household. The two collided through an improv troupe—and something clicked.
“He’s the eggroll, I’m the taquito,” Marin jokes, summing up their unlikely chemistry in one of those perfectly absurd one-liners that made them icons.
In the early ‘70s, their irreverent, drug-fueled brand of comedy exploded through stand-up stages, vinyl records, and eventually the big screen. They opened for the Rolling Stones. Bruce Springsteen once opened for them. Their 1978 debut film Up in Smoke became an instant classic, cementing them as stoner archetypes for generations to come.
But behind the easy laughs and haze of pot smoke, they were building something rare: a comedy brand that would outlast trends, taboos, and even their own falling-out.
Breakups, Busts, and Back Again
Despite their seemingly inseparable image, Marin and Chong split in the 1980s after creative and financial disagreements—mainly over credit and direction. What followed was a two-decade silence between the duo. They pursued solo careers, with Marin taking on acting roles in everything from Nash Bridges to Spy Kids, while Chong kept closer to his weed-loving image, sometimes parodying himself.
Then came the bust. In 2003, Chong was arrested and served nine months in federal prison for selling drug paraphernalia online—a saga that only deepened his cult status.
“I loved prison,” Chong insists, laughing. “It was the best time of my life. I got to read, meditate, and meet interesting people. Real characters.”
In hindsight, that brush with the law rekindled something. Around the time of Chong’s release, he and Marin started talking again. First, it was cautious phone calls. Then came an invitation to tour again. And then they were back—on stage, in business, and eventually, in a whole new green economy.
Growing Old, Growing a Brand
In a twist no one saw coming, the legalization of marijuana in multiple U.S. states turned Cheech and Chong into something more than pop culture relics. It turned them into moguls.
The two now helm a sprawling cannabis business, with their names stamped on everything from rolling papers to CBD-infused wellness products. What once got them arrested now funds a comfortable, semi-retired lifestyle—with just enough edge to keep them feeling relevant.
And it shows. Marin is 78, Chong is 86, but both look remarkably good, laugh often, and speak with a mix of candor and cheekiness that hasn't dulled over time.
“Our whole getting together was very auspicious,” Chong says earnestly. “It was designed by God for us to be here.”
“Personally,” Marin deadpans, “God told us.”
Their latest film reflects this unlikely evolution. Cheech & Chong’s Last Movie is not a greatest-hits compilation or a nostalgic cash grab. It’s weird, wandering, philosophical—and deeply them. As they drive through vast stretches of desert, they muse on fame, race, comedy, and the unexpected gift of growing older.
Still Riding
There’s a rawness to their bond now that perhaps wasn’t there in their early years. They laugh about their disagreements. They joke about being “very deportable” and decline to get too political. They’ve seen too much, maybe, to pretend they have all the answers.
“I wish we’d done more about our early days,” Marin reflects. “Back then, we were just trying to figure each other out. ‘What are you? How come you're named Chong?’ It was like some weird buddy cop origin story.”
Even after all these years, they still have the timing. Still have the spark. Still ride the line between absurdity and sincerity in a way no one else can. As much as they play characters, the real magic is that there’s very little difference between the stage personas and the men themselves.
They are still, in every sense, Cheech and Chong.
A Lasting Legacy
Whether or not Cheech & Chong's Last Movie is truly their last is beside the point. They've made peace with their past, laughed through their present, and planted seeds for the future—literally and figuratively.
“I think the message now is just: enjoy the ride,” says Chong. “That’s all you can do.”
And with that, the duo once again vanishes into the haze, riding nowhere in particular—with nothing but laughter in their wake.