The original stoner comedy, from the duo that helped push pot out of the fringe and into the mainstream. Up in Smoke casts Cheech and Chong as very mildly fictionalized versions of themselves, absent-mindedly cruising the streets of Los Angeles (and, eventually, Tijuana) in search of a fresh score. There, they meet an increasingly loony assortment of crackpots and crazies, dodge about a dozen police busts, smoke or swallow everything in front of them and, finally, show up on stage for the main event in a local battle of the bands.
I've probably seen this 2-3x in bits and pieces over the years, but as this was my first single-sitting experience, I got myself good and high before diving in. Even in the right state of mind, I didn't think it was a very big hit: a good ride for the first half-hour, but the novelty quickly wears off. Watching the boys bond over a colossal joint, which Chong just so happened to carry in a secret pocket somewhere, is a hoot. Their glazed expressions and loose associations with reality are dead-on, familiar to anyone who's ever been stoned at a party, or seen someone thus engaged. The headliners lather it on thick, delighted to share their happily-confused states of mind with a similarly inclined audience, and for a while that's good enough. Eventually, even the burnout in me started to yearn for more than pot gags and bad slapstick. The best bits still land - the famous "fiberweed" van that powers the home stretch is a great example - but a majority of these ideas probably sounded better on paper than they actually play on the screen. After the third or fourth go-around, the punchline of another accidentally-stoned cop loses its charm.
This was probably a revelation in '78, when blunt weed references were still edgy and rebellious and cocaine was downright taboo. Now that the latter has fallen out of fashion and the former is available in chic, glitzy Apple Store sales environments, it's just a couple funny guys floating through a very thin premise. Watching this was like getting high with my dad. Not really a bad time, but a little awkward and you're going to hear the same stories over and over again.
I've probably seen this 2-3x in bits and pieces over the years, but as this was my first single-sitting experience, I got myself good and high before diving in. Even in the right state of mind, I didn't think it was a very big hit: a good ride for the first half-hour, but the novelty quickly wears off. Watching the boys bond over a colossal joint, which Chong just so happened to carry in a secret pocket somewhere, is a hoot. Their glazed expressions and loose associations with reality are dead-on, familiar to anyone who's ever been stoned at a party, or seen someone thus engaged. The headliners lather it on thick, delighted to share their happily-confused states of mind with a similarly inclined audience, and for a while that's good enough. Eventually, even the burnout in me started to yearn for more than pot gags and bad slapstick. The best bits still land - the famous "fiberweed" van that powers the home stretch is a great example - but a majority of these ideas probably sounded better on paper than they actually play on the screen. After the third or fourth go-around, the punchline of another accidentally-stoned cop loses its charm.
This was probably a revelation in '78, when blunt weed references were still edgy and rebellious and cocaine was downright taboo. Now that the latter has fallen out of fashion and the former is available in chic, glitzy Apple Store sales environments, it's just a couple funny guys floating through a very thin premise. Watching this was like getting high with my dad. Not really a bad time, but a little awkward and you're going to hear the same stories over and over again.