The History of Concrete is about the ways in which we adapt to the world around us. It’s also about the ways in which we make the world adapt to us. Maybe, like most things in life, it’s about DMX. It’s also about a 3,100-mile race that takes place around a high school. It’s about the collision of art and capitalism. It’s about being creative because you have to, not because you want to make something, but because you have no other choice but to be creative in order to face the world. It’s about the past and the future, but mostly about the present. It’s also about concrete, but it’s not really about concrete.
Such is the magic of John Wilson, whose excellent HBO docuseries How to With John Wilson repeatedly showcased Wilson’s knack for combining the absurdities and poignancies of the world. The joy of that show, and Wilson’s style overall, is that you can never guess where he’ll go next. One episode of the show that is forever imprinted on my brain is one where Wilson starts off questioning how to properly dispose of batteries and ends up in a neighborhood where sex offenders have been tucked away by society. Like I said, you can never guess where Wilson will take viewers.
The History of Concrete is basically a feature-length version of a How to… episode, which allows Wilson to chase more narrative rabbit holes, shoehorn in more hilarious non sequitur imagery, and deliver more. If you’re a fan of Wilson’s show, you’ll almost certainly be in the bag for his movie. If the end product doesn’t quite reach the heights of How to…, well, there’s no shame in that. The History of Concrete is still one of the most entertaining movies I’ve seen all year.
The History of Concrete starts with Wilson catching viewers up on what he’s been up to since his show ended. Mostly, he’s been going about life, trying to get his next project off the ground. A recurring theme of the doc is the creative process itself, highlighted by Wilson repeatedly pitching the film to producers. Undeterred, Wilson plugs along. That takes him to a conference on writing Hallmark movies which, as is often the case with Wilson, proves to be very amusing and more informative than you’d think at the outset. Seeing how that particular sausage gets made is not something I thought I really needed to know, but now I do and I actually feel like I gained something from that experience. Life is crazy like that.
With concrete being the second most used material in the world (water is first), the stuff that provides the backdrop and backbone of our day-to-day lives, concrete-related stories are literally all around us. A favorite small moment from the film is when Wilson shows how people react to the imperfections around us, like the broken concrete around a tree in the middle of the sidewalk. Water has formed a small pond, and the residents of the area add small fish. It’s the kind of thing that only people would think about doing, and it gives personality where normally there wouldn’t be any. When the makeshift waterhole is paved over, it serves as a metaphor for the hegemony that Wilson seems to be raging against. As much a celebration of humanity and its vibrancy, The History of Concrete is also a warning against hegemony. In a moment when Wilson attempts to do something concrete related, it backfires in an unanticipated way. He learns of a Starbucks in Texas constructed from 3D printed concrete. Lacking the budget and desire to travel to Texas to get footage himself, he contracts out the work to someone with instructions to film in Wilson’s style. The result is sleek drone footage, the type of which has become a pox on the visual aesthetic of modern film and television.
If humans trend toward conformity over time, one of the great joys of Wilson’s work is his determination to find people that do the opposite. He introduces us to the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence 3,100 Mile Race, an annual competition in Jamaica, Queens where people run around the same block for 52 days. When told he needs a rock star or someone similar to give his film some juice, Wilson finds a middle-aged guy working in his neighborhood liquor store who plays in a band and whose personal story gives the doc the bulk of its emotional heft. Aside from compelling slice-of-life stories, The History of Concrete is a testament to the wonderful uniqueness always surrounding us. Life will amaze you if you’re willing to take the time to look at it. I’m as guilty as anyone as being too wrapped up in my own head at times to appreciate what the world has to offer. I’m grateful for the moments when I do take that time, and I’m grateful for the reminders along the way.
It’s also worth noting that The History of Concrete is one of the funniest movies you’ll see all year. In his work, Wilson doesn’t make people into punchlines, at least not overtly. No matter how odd or eccentric or outlandish someone may be, Wilson always approaches them with humanity. But that doesn’t take away from the comedy that comes from these personalities and situations. There’s a scene in the movie that pushes the boundaries of this, but Wilson manages to thread the needle. It’s a 2023 event hosted by GQ for their annual Men of the Year. The big honoree that year was Kim Kardashian. Wilson finds himself sitting at a table surrounded by extreme wealth while someone talks about how money isn’t really all that important. Then Dwyane Wade, wearing a pretty amusing outfit, gives a speech in Kim’s honor. It’s crazy that Wilson is there, even crazier that he’s filming it and we’re seeing it three years after the fact. Wilson ends the scene with a pan and reveals another honoree that is stop-you-in-your-tracks funny. And make sure you sit through the credits for another payoff that is sure to send you on the rest of your day with a smile on your face.
