A trippy horror movie about an alien-borne pink hue that drives everyone crazy might seem a natural fit for stoner legend Tommy Chong — but if he wasn’t in “Color Out of Space,” there’s a good chance he’d never see it.

“I smoke so much pot, I get scared really easily,” says Chong on the phone from Los Angeles. When he’s high, he says, he prefers to stay happy. “I like to listen to good music, or write music . . . I don’t want to see anybody get hurt or die — it’s not my cup of tea.”

Chong, 81, plays a small but memorable role in Richard Stanley’s gonzo new movie, based on an H.P. Lovecraft story, as a hippie who lives in the woods abutting an alpaca farm. When a meteorite crashes on the property, saturating everything around it with a neon glow, Chong’s character is sucked into its mind-altering effects, along with the family on the farm, headed by Nicolas Cage’s character Nathan.

As it turns out, Chong and Cage go way back. “I’ve known him ever since [1983’s] ‘Valley Girl,’ ” says Chong. “He was a big Cheech & Chong fan. We got along really well, and I’ve just followed his career ever since. He’s one of the finest actors in America — he’s the real deal!”

Cheech & Chong, for the uninitiated, is his long-running, marijuana-centric comedy duo with Richard “Cheech” Marin. During the 1970s and ’80s, the two made eight comedy albums — one of which, 1973’s “Los Cochinos,” won a Grammy — and co-starred in seven movies.

Since then, Chong’s stayed in the public eye as a countercultural icon. He had a recurring role on the sitcom “That ’70s Show,” made movie cameos and recently appeared on “The Masked Singer,” performing “I Will Survive” from underneath a pineapple head.

Why’d he go with the tropical fruit get-up? “Well, it had abs,” he says with a laugh, referring to the fake stomach under the accompanying Hawaiian shirt. “That was the only way I’m gonna have abs.”

Chong has had serious health challenges in recent years: The father of six was treated for prostate cancer in 2012, and for colorectal cancer in 2015. Now, “I’m doing really well, really good,” he says. “I’ve got a beautiful family that takes care of me, and I have my own weed line I’m testing every day. I stay medicated — it makes me a happy camper.”

Chong’s brand of marijuana, Chong’s Choice, includes an ice cream-evocative variant called Chocolate Chunk he says is beloved by his wife, Shelby, as well. “Indica makes you want to cuddle up to someone and go to sleep,” he says of this strain of pot. “My wife does a little, usually at 4 in the morning. She gets up, starts worrying, and then she does a little Chocolate Chunk and away she goes for a couple hours. It calms the mind. All you do is think about what you want to eat.”

He reflects on how far the country’s come since the days he was considered a radical for espousing the virtues of pot. With recreational weed legal in 11 states and medical marijuana in 33, pot smoking is so commonplace, it’s downright boring. This, Chong thinks, is a good thing — even if that means the end of the stoner comedy as the taboo-tweaking genre it was.

“I think they should be giving Cheech & Chong a special award on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,” he says. “We should be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It’s time for us to get some achievement awards for helping to legalize the medicine.”

Cheech & Chong flicks may be retro now, he says, but their legacy is going strong. “You can go to any movie, and if you’re high,” he says, “it’s a stoner comedy!”