If you were a stoner in the seventies, Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong were basically your prophets. They were the guys who turned counter-culture smoke circles into platinum records and box office gold. But by the time Get Out of My Room 1985 rolled around, the haze was starting to clear, and things got... weird.
It wasn't just a record. It wasn't just a movie. It was this bizarre, mid-eighties hybrid that tried to capture a shifting cultural moment while the duo's own partnership was literally crumbling behind the scenes. Honestly, if you look at the landscape of 1985, the "Reagan Era" was in full swing, and the gritty, raw humor of Up in Smoke felt like a lifetime ago.
The Mockumentary Before It Was Cool
Most people remember the song "Born in East L.A." as a standalone hit. You’ve probably seen the music video on VH1 Classic or YouTube. But it actually started as a centerpiece for the Get Out of My Room 1985 project.
The film itself is a 53-minute long-form video. It's framed as a mockumentary, directed by Cheech Marin himself. This was a massive departure. Instead of the rambling, episodic "stoner adventures" of their earlier films, this was a satirical look at the music industry and the burgeoning MTV culture. They play themselves, but a heightened, slightly more pathetic version of themselves. They're trying to finish a video album while being interviewed by a British "rock journalist" played by Ian McShane. Yeah, Al Swearengen from Deadwood is in a Cheech and Chong movie.
The pacing is frantic. It’s a series of vignettes tied together by the fake documentary crew. You get these high-concept music videos for tracks like "Get Out of My Room" and "I'm Not Home Right Now." It’s basically a precursor to things like This Is Spinal Tap, though with a much heavier emphasis on the visual absurdity of the eighties.
Why the Music Actually Kind of Slaps
Let's talk about the sound.
The 1980s were a graveyard for seventies icons trying to stay relevant. You had legacy acts desperately throwing synthesizers at their records hoping something would stick. But Get Out of My Room 1985 leans into the synth-pop and early hip-hop aesthetic with a surprising amount of competence.
✨ Don't miss: The Lil Wayne Tracklist for Tha Carter 3: What Most People Get Wrong
"Born in East L.A." is the obvious standout. It’s a parody of Bruce Springsteen’s "Born in the U.S.A.," but it actually carries some genuine social weight. It’s funny, sure, but it’s also a biting commentary on the treatment of Mexican-Americans and the absurdity of immigration policy. It was so successful that it eventually got spun off into a full-length feature film in 1987.
Then you have the title track, "Get Out of My Room." It’s this driving, synth-heavy anthem about a guy who just wants some privacy to, well, do his business. It’s juvenile. It’s loud. It’s exactly what you’d expect, yet the production quality is shockingly high for a "comedy" record. Gaye Delorme, a long-time collaborator, helped craft a sound that didn't just feel like a joke—it felt like it belonged on the radio between Prince and Duran Duran.
The Beginning of the End
You can't talk about Get Out of My Room 1985 without talking about the breakup.
This project was the last gasp of the original Cheech and Chong era. By this point, Cheech Marin was itching to move into more mainstream, "serious" acting and directing. He wanted to shed the perpetual stoner image. Tommy Chong, on the other hand, was the keeper of the flame. He wanted to stay true to the brand that made them famous.
You can feel that tension on screen.
In the documentary segments, the duo feels slightly disconnected. There’s a scene where they’re trying to come up with ideas, and it feels less like a comedy bit and more like a window into their real-life creative frustrations. Shortly after this was released, they went their separate ways. Cheech went on to do Miami Vice and Nash Bridges. Tommy stayed in the club circuit and eventually did That '70s Show.
🔗 Read more: Songs by Tyler Childers: What Most People Get Wrong
It’s a bittersweet watch. You’re seeing two masters of their craft realize they’re no longer on the same page.
A Cultural Time Capsule
There's a lot of "blink and you'll miss it" stuff in here. The cameos alone are a fever dream of mid-eighties celebrity culture. You've got Beverly D’Angelo, Cassandra Peterson (Elvira!), and even Jan-Michael Vincent.
It captures a very specific moment when "comedy music" was becoming a visual medium. Before Get Out of My Room 1985, comedy albums were things you listened to in your bedroom with headphones on. After the MTV explosion, comedians realized they needed to be seen. This project was a direct response to that. It’s colorful, it’s over-produced, and it’s deeply rooted in the aesthetics of 1985.
The fashion? Peak eighties.
The hair? Massive.
The satire? Surprisingly sharp.
While it didn't reach the mythic status of Up in Smoke, it’s a much more interesting piece of art because it shows a transition. It shows two guys trying to figure out how to be "Cheech and Chong" in a world that was rapidly moving past the hippie era.
What Most People Get Wrong
People often dismiss this era of their career as "the one where they stopped being funny because they stopped doing drugs." That’s a lazy take.
💡 You might also like: Questions From Black Card Revoked: The Culture Test That Might Just Get You Roasted
The humor in Get Out of My Room 1985 is actually more sophisticated than their early stuff. It’s meta. It’s self-referential. They aren't just playing "Pedro and Man." They are playing "Cheech and Chong trying to be relevant." That’s a much harder needle to thread.
If you go back and watch the "Get Out of My Room" video now, it’s a masterclass in visual comedy. The timing of the door slams, the absurdity of the "Love Man" persona—it’s high-level physical comedy. It wasn't that they weren't funny anymore; it was that the audience was changing, and the duo was fractured.
How to Experience it Today
Finding a high-quality version of the Get Out of My Room 1985 film can be a bit of a treasure hunt. It hasn't received the same lavish 4K restoration treatment that their debut film got. You’re usually looking at old DVD rips or hunting through secondary streaming markets.
But it’s worth the effort for a few reasons:
- The Satire: It’s a genuinely funny look at the "We Are The World" era of self-important celebrity culture.
- The Music: The tracks are catchy. Seriously. They will get stuck in your head for days.
- The History: It’s the final chapter of the most important comedy duo of the 20th century.
If you’re a fan of comedy history, or if you just want to see what happens when the biggest stoners in the world try to conquer MTV, you have to track it down. It’s a weird, messy, loud, and frequently brilliant piece of media that deserves more than being a footnote in a Wikipedia entry.
Next Steps for the Cult Comedy Fan
To truly appreciate the pivot they made, start by re-watching "Born in East L.A." but pay attention to the background details—the set design and the extras. It’s a much more deliberate production than people give it credit for. After that, seek out the full 53-minute mockumentary. It’s the best way to see the creative DNA that eventually led to the more polished mockumentaries of the 90s and 2000s. Finally, listen to the full album on a decent sound system; the production by Lou Adler and Gaye Delorme is a fascinating example of 80s studio wizardry.