Cheech Is Not My Real Name

December 12, 2016
The comedy duo Cheech and Chong defined “stoner humor” in a series of wildly successful LPs in the early 1970s—and later in equally popular low-budget films—with jokes based on “observing this hippie revolution that was going on all around us,” as first-time author Marin describes in this enjoyable and insightful autobiography. “We didn’t become hippies,” he writes. “We were hippies.” And though their comedy was often lowbrow, Marin’s descriptions of how the duo perfected their act in a range of venues, from their early days in Vancouver (where they met) to countless sets in the famed Troubadour club in Hollywood, makes a strong argument that behind the stoner facade were two seasoned entertainers who, when improvising, “were like jazz musicians.” But the Cheech and Chong team is only half of Marin’s story. After an honest description of the duo’s break-up (“I didn’t necessarily want to be in control. I just didn’t want to be controlled”), Marin describes the development of his solo success as an actor in films such as Tin Cup and Machete. Bookended by looks at his youth growing up poor in South Central Los Angeles and his development as a now well-known collector of Chicago art, this memoir is fun, wacky look inside Marin’s imagination.

February 15, 2017
The straight dope from Cheech.Marin, half of the storied stoner comedy team Cheech and Chong, recounts his life and career with this slight, genial memoir. The son of a hard-nosed cop, Richard "Cheech" Marin (b. 1946) spent his early life in East Los Angeles' violent ghetto on the straight and narrow, earning good grades and serving as an altar boy. The Vietnam War changed everything, as Marin turned in his draft card and decamped for Canada, where he met local musician and scenester Tommy Chong and joined his improvisational comedy troupe. "I had turned in my draft card," he writes, "philosophically denying the government's authority over me and at the same time choosing to go to Canada to pursue my artistic calling as a potter. It was a philosophical two-fer." Marin and Chong hit it off, and their loose, rambling, pot-inflected comedy bits quickly made them a sensation, leading to lucrative tours, albums, and movies before the buzz wore off and the pair split in the mid-1980s. Marin is diplomatic about his clashes with Chong, who comes off here as aggressive and insecure about credit, leavening all complaints with affirmations of Chong's singular, charismatic talent. Mellow in his recollections to a fault, the author acknowledges his fondness for marijuana, but he does not offer salacious, drug-fueled anecdotes or other tales of wild, countercultural bad behavior. Instead, he focuses on the duo's creative process, warm family memories, post-Cheech and Chong collaborations with Robert Rodriguez and Pixar, and the creation of his personal film Born in East LA (1987). Droll and affable rather than outrageous and subversive, Marin is pleasant company, but general readers may wish for less data on the author's Chicano art collection and more hysterical, hairy tales of '70s-era excess. A mildly diverting, modestly charming memoir from a surprisingly multifaceted showbiz survivor.

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February 1, 2017
The best work Cheech Marin has ever done has come as the result of improvisation, not only in what he and Tommy Chong did as one of the greatest comic duos in American history but also in the way he lived his life. A second-generation American and son of a 30-year veteran of the LAPD, Marin joined Muhammad Ali as a conscientious objector to the Vietnam War and fled to Canada, where he learned to be a potter's apprentice, a hunter, and anything else that helped him keep his life moving forward. Canada is where he met Tommy Chong for the first time, and Marin does share the story of Cheech and Chong, the mountains of pot they smoked, and why they're barely speaking to one another today. But this memoir is also a rollicking, plot-rich personal inquiry, in which Marin attempts to answer the question he has heard like a refrain over the nearly 70 years he's been alive, What the hell are you? A fascinating self-portrait and social and artistic history.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2017, American Library Association.)