Josh Brolin Reflects on Sobriety, Grief, and the Art of Acting in His Memoir 'From Under the Truck'

Hoffman, recently sober and on the brink of his stellar career, recognized the pain in Brolin's eyes.

“There is sweat all over my bare chest,” Brolin writes. “I look back at the subway stairwell, but he’s already gone. I know he’s sober. I’m not anymore. He knows that too. I could tell by the way he looked at me as someone who just didn’t get it.”

The memory, while fleeting, left a lasting mark. Hoffman’s tragic death in 2014—just a year after Brolin himself had embraced sobriety—added another layer of sorrow. The two had maintained contact, with Hoffman even considering directing Brolin in a stage adaptation of Kenneth Lonergan’s Hold On to Me Darling.

“I told him, ‘If you want to talk about any of this, let me know,’” Brolin shares. “But he was gone a month and a half later. It was horrible. He was all of our favorite actor—so talented, so committed. He carried sobriety like a badge of honor.”

Brolin’s memoir is brimming with such raw recollections, tracing a journey of self-destruction, loss, and redemption. He candidly explores his early exposure to addiction, courtesy of his mother, Jane Cameron Agee, who struggled with alcohol herself. At a tender age, Brolin began experimenting with substances, smoking pot at nine and dropping acid by thirteen. His teenage years were punctuated by bar fights, stints in jail, and near-death encounters.

The book’s title, From Under the Truck, reflects a vivid memory of his mother’s drinking contest with her boyfriend, which ended with the latter passing out beneath a vehicle. That chaotic upbringing set the tone for Brolin’s reckless youth.

“I feel fortunate to be alive,” Brolin admits. “So many of my friends didn’t make it. I don’t have survivor guilt, but I do feel a responsibility to live fully. I drank to feel complete, but now I see that choice for what it was—a way to avoid myself.”

Eleven years into sobriety, Brolin credits a moment of clarity at his grandmother’s deathbed with helping him quit alcohol for good.

“She smiled at me, and I thought, ‘How dare I show up like this?’” Brolin recalls. “It was a wake-up call. I had every opportunity to build something meaningful, and I was throwing it away.”

Even during his darker years, Brolin delivered compelling performances, from his breakout in No Country for Old Men to acclaimed roles in Milk and W. Yet, he believes his craft has deepened since getting sober.

“I wasn’t bad before,” he reflects. “I was professional. But sobriety has given me a new edge—more presence, more willingness to take risks.”

This new chapter has emboldened Brolin to take on challenging projects like Rian Johnson’s Wake Up Dead Man, part of the Knives Out series. Initially intimidated by its intricate dialogue, Brolin leaned into rigorous preparation.

“Had I still been drinking, I don’t think I could’ve managed it,” he says.

Unlike traditional celebrity memoirs, From Under the Truck resists glossing over the gritty details. The narrative weaves through time, juxtaposing memories of growing up on a ranch in Paso Robles, California, with tales of Hollywood sets and personal missteps. From offending Robert De Niro at an awards luncheon to using hotel pillows for personal relief, Brolin’s candor is relentless.

“The book became its own entity,” Brolin says. “It’s not polished or conventional. I wanted it to be raw, to hold myself accountable, and to tell the truth.”

Brolin closes the memoir with reflections on legacy and gratitude. He is hopeful for the future, both as a man and as an actor, eagerly anticipating Denis Villeneuve’s Dune: Part Two.

“Denis deserves every accolade,” Brolin insists. “If he doesn’t get an Oscar nomination for this one, I’ll quit acting.”