Part man, part...rock? Over seven feet tall and weighing over a thousand pounds, he is known as Concrete but is in reality the mind of one Ronald Lithgow, trapped inside a shell of stone, a body that allows him to walk unaided on the ocean's floor or survive the crush of a thousand tons of rubble in a collapsed mineshaft...but prevents him from feeling the touch of a human hand. These stories of Concrete are as rich and satisfying as any in funny, heartbreaking, and singularly human. Depths, the first in a series of new collections reprinting the classic early Concrete stories along with never-before-collected short stories, includes the Eisner-nominated "Orange Glow" and "Vagabond," Paul Chadwick's autobiographical account of a cross-country hitchiking trip.
Paul Chadwick (b.1957) has worked widely as an artist and writer for comic books, with collaborators like Ron Randall, Doug Wheatley, Alan Moore, John Bolton, Harlan Ellison, Jan Strnad, Randy Stradley, Archie Goodwin, Brian K. Vaughan, and others.
He's most noted for his award-winning series Concrete, about a thoughtful man stuck in a brutish, rock-coated body. Born in Seattle, he grew up in its lakeside suburb Medina, then a haven for Boeing engineers and their families, now the site of palaces for Bill Gates and his ilk. His father Stephen F. Chadwick was City Attorney for the small hamlet.
As a teen, he joined Apa-5, the amateur press alliance of comics fans which also provided a creative outlet for future comics luminaries like Frank Miller, Mike Richardson, Randy Stradley, Chris Warner, Randy Emberlin, and others.
He attended Art Center College of Design, majoring in illustration. Around this time Chadwick lived in a courtyard apartment building, The Golden Palm, which teemed with talent. Bryn Barnard, Ron Harris, David Mattingly, James Gurney, Thomas Kinkade, Kurt Cyrus, Mark Verheiden, Andy Su, Terry Robinson all lived there, five of them as Chadwick's roommate (at different times).
Chadwick graduated in 1979, and began storyboarding movies for Disney, Warner Brothers, Lucasfilm and others. Credits include Pee Wee's Big Adventure, Strange Brew, The Big Easy and Ewoks: The Battle for Endor. Chadwick says the auteurs behind two small films he worked on, Lies (Jim & Ken Wheat) and Miracle Mile (Steve DeJarnatt) were the greatest personal influences on his writing.
Chadwick also freelanced illustration, mainly for movie advertising (Streamers and Galaxy of Terror were the only finished posters among the dozens of preliminary paintings he did) and for SF and Fantasy paperbacks.
Chadwick decided to devote himself to comics, but Concrete didn't sell at first. Chadwick's first comic in print was The Life of St. Norbert, published by an order of Norbertine monks. Going from the sacred to the (mildly) profane, he next drew Steve Perry's strange and silly Salimba, about a jungle girl fighting "wormboys" and a giant three-headed were-dog.
A year on Marvel's Dazzler completed Chadwick's apprentice years, and he sold Concrete in 1985 to Dark Horse comics. It has appeared intermittently ever since.
A Concrete movie has been in development for years. Chadwick has written several screenplays for it, first in collaboration with Larry Wilson, then solo. Peter Jackson and Fran Walsh wrote one, as well, which briefly won a green light for the film.
The decision was reversed upon the release of the surprise hit The Blair Witch Project, which caused the sudden mass delusion that Hollywood could dispense with costly visual effects and stars. The fever passed, but Concrete's window had closed, at least until somebody with the clout or energy decides to brave the thousand demons that lay waiting to kill every movie.
Chadwick wrote and drew (inks by Ron Randall) eight issues of The World Below, about a network of vast, mysteriously lit caverns beneath northern Washington State, and the strange beings and technology to be found there. Dark Horse plans to reissue the series as a collection.
The Human Dilemma, the newest Concrete series, won an Eisner Award (best cartoonist) and a Reuben Award (best in comic books division) from the National Cartoonist Society.
Chadwick is currently drawing a miniseries for DC, Seven Against Chaos, written by Harlan Ellison.
He's also working on a (non-Concrete, TBA) graphic novel for Dark Horse, as well as a new Concrete miniseries.
Concrete is the superhero comic that could, but chose not to. I’m so impressed that Paul Chadwick deliberately chose to take his comic in a different direction. Let me explain. Concrete, I’ll call him Ron (his real name), is a seven foot tall creature with a thick skin of concrete which makes him very resistant to physical stimulus. Ron became this way after being abducted by aliens who transferred his brain into a new, concrete, body. His new body made super strong, extremely resistant, and it also gave him the ability to perform great and seemingly impossible feats for even the most extraordinary human. Sounds like a superhero origin, doesn’t it? And it is, but not quite. Well, it could have been. Ah, the more I think about it the more impressed I become of what Paul Chadwick has accomplished.
In Chadwick’s introduction, he mentions that following his initial inception, Concrete was mistaken to be a superhero comic. People would ask him who Ron would fight next. Exactly how Chadwick was able to resist doing just that, writing a superhero comic, in the American comic industry in the 80s is beyond me. Not only that, but there is an interesting and even enjoyable environmental message that can easily be found within the pages of Concrete. I say it’s enjoyable because it feels heartfelt and real as opposed to forced and preachy like is often the case in fiction that deals with social concerns.
Concrete is a realist comic masterpiece. Paul Chadwick makes his comic a realist work by treating Ron and his exploits as if they were real. How would the government react to a concrete man who is in this state after surviving an encounter with extra-terrestrials? Would he still be considered a man? How would you give Ron his freedom without causing chaos and mass speculation from the populace? More importantly, how is Ron going to live his life? What can he do? What should he do? So many people would have written Concrete as a superhero. His origins are practically begging for it, but Chadwick decides to go in another direction and I can my express how glad I am that he did so. Ron decides to undergo several nature expeditions and write about his exploits like his childhood heroes did (I can’t remember their names but they’re famous explorers and adventurers who wrote about their exploits). To do so he hires an assistant (Ron can’t write or type with his giant hands) and they, accompanied by Maureen Vonnegut (no relations) travel to different parts of the world.
I could not stop thinking of Concrete as a deliberate non-superhero work despite it being seemingly created for such a genre and in a market dominated by long underwear. Simple, real world things take on more meaning and weight than the most fantastic and imaginative superhero stories. In one of the stories, Concrete fights a bear and his thoughts are if how terribly scared he is of this common forest animal. It surprised me. Ron is huge and strong and nigh indestructible, but a bear, something arguably weaker than he is, terrifies him. In a different comic, a superhero comic, the hero would have thought little of a regular bear. Many heroes are forever changed by their powers. It's not the same for Ron. If anything his body has allowed for him to be who he really is. He's a pudgy boy who used to dream of adventures and daring do. This new body allows him to live those dreams but he does it with the sensitive approach of someone who, despite his current indestructible state, is very aware of the dangers.
There’s another example of Ron’s identity and how it’s not changed after acquiring his new body. A friend of his asks Ron to come to a nude beach with him and his girlfriend. Ron declines because it would make him uncomfortable. His friend points out that Ron, in his concrete body, is always naked. The reason he would be uncomfortable is because he feels he would be caught looking at other people's nude bodies and because he would never had done this before he became concrete giant. How Chadwick resists the temptation of having his main character resist the changes to his identity following his incredible transformation is just another impressive and surprising touch that adds a lot to the story.
One of the things that greatly contribute to Concrete being so good is that Chadwick’s art is very good. Not only does he have a strong grasp on the narrative flow of a comic book page, he also has a mesmerizingly good realist art style. The art is all in black and white. Some people have a difficult time reading black and white comics but I don’t mind. I prefer to read a comic in whichever format it was originally intended. I’m not a fan of older comics being recolored for a new printing or of coloured comics being printed in black in white. Here, the art is characterized by the stark contrasts between the white page and the black ink. You’re guaranteed a stunning panel or even an entire page every few pages you turn. A particular moment, when Ron is swimming in the Atlantic at night surrounded by phosphorous plankton, is absolutely stunning. Chadwick’s realist style captures the beauty and mystery of nature as well as it captures the facial expressions and body language of his human (and concrete) characters. At his best, Chadwick’s art reminds me of the Hernandez Brothers, Jaime and Gilbert, of Love and Rockets fame. This is high praise since the Hernandez brothers are some of my favourite artists. At worse, however, his art still shows a young artist learning the subtleties of his craft.
This comic is for everybody. It’s for superhero comic fans that are looking to shake things up a bit. It’s for avid comic readers who don’t limit themselves to certain publishers or genres. It’s also for people who generally don’t read many comics at all. There’s something here to please every type of reader. I only have suggestion, take your time, savour it, because before you know it you’ll be looking at the last page of the book wishing the second volume was close at hand so that you could continue reading Concrete.
Ok, what am I missing? I guess the book has a certain zen-like embrace of the mundane. In concept this turns the whole the super hero stereotype on its head, but really for the most part there isn't much excitement here. I understand how the world needed an anti-Grendel at the time, but after the 25+ years since this has been released the market has been flooded with indie navel gazing. I'm not sure that this has that much going for it to rise above the rest other than getting there first. Frequently the art is lovely, and the stories do have a certain charm, but I guess I have to say that I'm just not the audience for these.
This isn’t anything groundbreaking, but it’s thoroughly enjoyable. It has a similar feel to some DC series I’ve read from about the same time (e.g. Shade the Changing Man, The Invisibles, and some of the more grounded parts of The Sandman), though Concrete leans a bit more into comedy. Its main distinguishing feature is its consistently good-looking black-and-white artwork, all of which is drawn by Paul Chadwick – a sharp contrast to the rotating rosters of rushed and often sub-par artists that characterize most DC series from the period. Chadwick's careful, bold inks remind me a bit of the Hernandez brothers, though his style is less cartoony, and in some of the more action-packed sequences his panel-to-panel storytelling can be a little unclear.
The stories are consistently engaging, but only one of them (the surprisingly moving "Orange Glow") rises above that. I've heard the Concrete series described as "realistic" and "slice-of-life", but I frankly think those are misleading descriptions (at least for this volume). The longer stories in the collection (i.e. issues #1–5 of the original series) are basically just light-hearted, relatively low-stakes superhero stuff, while the shorter stories (collected from various anthologies) are mostly just goofy comedy.
In other words, there isn't much depth or complexity here. It certainly isn't a psychologically believable examination of how someone might react to a situation like that of the protagonist. Nevertheless, it's fun and very readable, and I'm told the series matures a bit as it continues, so I'll probably keep reading sooner or later.
This is the first collection of Concrete in the series and was really really good. What can I say, it is about a man turned into a concrete monster who decides to take up his childhood dreams of being an adventurer and writing books about it. It covers how concrete became concrete, concrete trying to swim the atlantic ocean, concrete saving miners, helping some oceanographers, losing a friend in a cave.... The writing is really top-notch. 20 years later, this still holds up well, and I got it gratis at the library! My only complaint is that it was written to be read as single issues, because trade paper collections weren't as common back then (I guess?), so there is some repetition and each adventure is neatly wrapped up in the end of each issue. Even if it doesn't fit the trade paper format perfectly, it is still fantastic and highly recommended.
This didn't hold up quite as well as I remembered, or maybe I expected too much from all the adulation I remember it receiving. It's pretty great to see a well-crafted comics story that is less power fantasy and more of an exploration of the world through the lens of some supernatural twist. And the visual fluency and control of Chadwick's pen makes me infinitely jealous. Maybe it was more a matter of timing than overall content: here was a bit of non-super hero alternative comics fiction hitting right as artists and readers were eager to begin ascent of the era of "serious" and thoughtful graphic novels. Like early humor websites--marginally good ones might become mega-hits, since no one else had tried the waters yet.
But the writing had a kind of stiffness that I could never look past. Even the debauched rock and roller "Duke" talks like all the rest of Chadwick's nebbishes. The artsy-smartsy feel of the wordy dialogue kept taking me out of the action. It almost felt like every single character was the same person: a misunderstood, emotionally isolated. intellectually introverted individual with a slight trace of pomposity. It seems like it was hard for the writer to come up with alternate voices (the worst example being Duke, who's supposed to be a black megastar, and sounds like anything but--instead he acts and talks like a fat white kid whose grown up, won rock stardom, and now is paranoid that he'll be found out again). It takes me back to painful memories of my own really, truly terrible high school and college fiction, where I was utterly incompetent at creating voices for characters.
There is also a sort of pre-Internet feel to everything I can't quite put my finger on, a sense that the media is magic, or that knowledge is a secret thing, that the few books you've read in your life are the secret passage to enlightenment, that information is broadly disconnected. Funny feeling, neither good nor bad.
But I still love looking at Chadwick's drawings of sea life, mountains and rivers, and rock lines. His humans characters are so nice too, so crisp, and so easy to distinguish, no matter what angle they're drawn from. I can't imagine having that level of skill.
The book has an appeal that I can't quite articulate. It wasn't as good as I hoped and expected, though. The art is quite good, but the the chapters' plots are simplistic, the story pacing is erratic, and the dialog is stilted. The series has a good reputation -- maybe it gets better over time (it did improve over the chapters in this book)? Or maybe it's one of those books that doesn't age well?
Concrete è un uomo di roccia, ha un corpo alieno ma con una mente umana. Creando questo personaggio Chadwick affronta la storia di un potenziale supereroe, un uomo che si trova nella condizione di intraprendere imprese sovraumane, ma lascia da parte i toni epici o esaltanti dei più noti personaggi in calzamaglia. Il modo in cui viene raccontato Concrete è molto più intimistico; Chadwick mostra il disagio emotivo della sua condizione di diversità, oltre all'aspetto eccitante di un corpo fuori dall'ordinario. Concrete infatti è un uomo semplice, quasi ingenuo, anche frivolo per certi aspetti. Non è il supereroe che ti aspetti, si potrebbe anche dire che non è un supereroe affatto, ed è questo che lo rende interessante. Concrete è strano, originale, disegnato magnificamente e con tavole curate nei dettagli. Un personaggio di culto da conoscere e approfondire.
Concrete could be a super hero, if he was part of a super-hero world -- but he's not. He's trapped in a rocky body akin to The Thing of the Fantastic Four in a rather mundane, realistic world. Without a clear path ahead, he and his companions go on moderately entertaining adventures and get philosophical. It's one of those graphic novels that make you say, "okay, this is pretty good," with its detailed black-and-white art, solid writing, and original ideas.... but I have to admit that I didn't really enjoy reading most of it. The writing dwells a lot on awkwardness, failure, and unrequited feelings, sometimes bordering on cringe-worthy. I may continue with this series to see if the writing moves on to explores different themes.
An interesting series, unlike any other 'superhero' comics I've read. Trapped in an alien body, Concrete is the only supernatural element in an otherwise normal world. Although he does encounter hardship through his attempts at great feats like swimming the Atlantic, most of his dilemmas are social, resulting from his inability to reintegrate into human society. Underneath his rock skin, Concrete is very much still human; insecure, unsure, and prone to embarrassment from his blundering body. A lot of the time the joke is on him, either from his haphazard attempts to solve problems, or from his sexless body's disconnect with his human brain. I found this series funny, thoughtful, and excellently illustrated
This strange black-and-white comic book series from the 1980s is weird and interesting enough that I've bought every volume and slowly reading these in bed before falling asleep.
A nice, ordinary, moral man finds himself in a 7-foot, 1,200-pound body made of concrete after an alien encounter. But rather than changing him into a superhero who takes on villains, it turns him into more of an ordinary guy who realizes he ought to do something with the gifts he's been given.
In these early stories, the author is still figuring out what he's gotten himself into and he tries to imagine what would really happen. After much testing, the government decides it can't let the story out that he was abducted by aliens for fear of scaring the public but they can't keep him secret so they decide to make the public sick of him through overexposure. They give him a fake backstory that he got this way because of a government experiment gone wrong. He does all the talk shows and gets cameos in TV sitcoms. People come to accept him as part of the celebrity landscape.
He decides to test the limits of his body, like what would happen if he tried to swim across the Atlantic.
This first book is probably 3 stars, but for me, it's got so much potential, I've got to give it 4 stars because the creator's mind is so interesting, I must see where he goes.
As one small example of a page I keep thinking about, in the section about his origin story, our hero (real name Ron) and a buddy are abducted by aliens and they eventually figure out that the aliens did a body swap with them as an experiment. The aliens are likely in their original bodies in order to study what humans are like, and so Ron and his buddy's minds are temporarily in the alien bodies. They're in like a prison-like containment area and they realize that the aliens have done things with other sentient beings. They suspect one of their fellow prisoners used to be a deer because of how skittish and cowering and traumatized the being is, despite being in a mostly indestructible concrete humanoid body. They're having a hard enough time grappling with being on a spaceship with all kinds of weird alien stuff around them, but as humans, they're able to cope with what's happening. They can't even imagine what might be going on in the mind of a deer or some other animal (a fish?). This sense of compassion and understanding is what connected me to the book.
It's been a long time since I've read comix, so it took me a while to get into the groove of this volume. Though the series is "legendary," at least according to the blurb on the front cover, I had never heard of Concrete. Thus, the stories were mostly a pleasant surprise.
A side note: Holy hell, I am glad that the thought bubble has all but evaporated from illustrated storytelling. Too much telling, not enough showing. The presence of thought bubbles dates the work for me, which makes it somewhat less accessible, especially for browsers.
The stories are mostly self-contained. Continuity, apart from Concrete being Concrete, doesn't exist very strongly. This wasn't a problem, but I was a bit surprised when I realized that this volume wasn't just a Best-Of collection, but mostly a collection of stories ordered by release date.
Concrete and his world are very grounded in reality, in spite of the titular character's condition. The characters are developed thoroughly and they have feelings that are more complex than just angry or scared. And, grand spoiler, they act on their feelings. These actions in turn build the complexity of the characters, leading them to act more in line with their feelings, and the cycle continues.
The artwork has a depth that rivals that of the characters. Clearly, Chadwick went to art school and it's a good thing. The shot composition, panel experimentation, and level of detail are all worth studying, both for fans of the medium and creators. The work Chadwick does for the undersea stories is nothing short of breathtaking—put a wall-sized print of some of these pages in your foyer and any visitor would be content to just stand and marvel at the damn thing, rather than chat with their host. Even the wrap-up page of a story gets more detail than most monthly books receive over 24 pages: Concrete is talking on the phone, while in the background someone drops a beaker on the ground and then cleans up the mess. No bearing on the story, no significance to any other character, nothing remarkable. It's a sequence that could have easily been missed. But it's there anyway, plugging away in the background, because no one wants to watch talking heads. And apparently, Chadwick doesn't want to draw them, either.
Though comics are just about my favorite thing in the world, I will admit that I find they often walk a weird tightrope for me, when it comes to what holds my interest.
If, on one hand, the stories are too "slice of life," I find that I'm not that interested in reading them. With a storytelling medium that allows a single individual to tell a story with a near-limitless budget; it seems like a waste when most indie comics seem content to tell self-indulgent stories about their creators sitting around in their dumpy apartment. But, on the other hand, if they become too far-fetched and if the world the creators build is too detached from reality, I often struggle too. I want creators to go big, and tell stories not easily told in other mediums, but at that same time, those stories need to still be relate-able on a fundamental level.
As I said, it's a bit of a tightrope.
All that is merely preface to say that Concrete does an admirable job of walking that fine line. It's the story of a man who finds himself trapped within a giant stone body (picture the Thing, with less bumps)... super strong, super heavy, super endurance and even super eyesight to boot. But, at the same time, those blessings come with an array of curses: Unable to touch and feel in the usual way, forever set apart from the average man.
But, while the basic premise of a man gaining extraordinary powers is not unusual to comics, his response is. Without super-villians to fight, Concrete turns his attention to exploration and daring feets made more to inspire and live out personal dreams, rather than "save the world."
It's the beginnings of a related, everyman story cast into the most usual of situations. And, except for a few smaller bits that date it (some fashion, the depiction of celebrity and an AIDS comment), it is very well executed. I look forward to seeing where this character takes me.
Wow. Oh man. This is an incredible find! I am already done now with the 2nd in the series (of 8?) and I am a superfan who is totally hooked on Concrete! I cannot get enough. We are already thinking of investing in the full-cover collection. Anyway, this is kind of an unlikely superhero story...A guy gets his brain transplanted into this big concrete body...There's a little gov't conspiracy stuff, w/o being unpatriotic...There's mystery and intrigue, but mostly a thoroughly human story about how it feels to be an outsider...Even when you're surrounded by loved ones. Bittersweet. Intoxicating. Soulful and boy it just cuts right through the crap to the big issues and questions. Its beautiful. i think I have fallen in love with the writer--he seems to reveal himself through this writing...There's no way he can write this guy and not feel this way...About life and everything. The universe. All beings. Connectedness. This freakin' comic is so up my alley, I am so glad I found it--and the funny thing? Its began in freakin 1984 ('82?)! Its been around since I was wee. I think that's so cool...It is like an awesome rock you find on a hiking trip. Been around for a while, but a brand new treasure to you. Perfect. Oh-and the art? Megarad. SOOOOoo inspiring! So inspiring that I may actually pick up a paper and pen and draw again. I already have a little bit...Thank you, Paul Chadwick!
This comic was... fine? Competent? Mostly unobjectionable?
I can see why it was so well-regarded in the 80s. It's well-drawn, dense, competently constructed. Not too meditative or rambling like a lot of indie comics. There are some interesting concepts and interpretations, like the way Concrete is almost entirely excited about his transformation. The reaction of "Hey, I'm super strong and durable! I'll never have to worry about that awkward sex stuff again! I'll never get a sunburn!" is basically unique, and the most interesting thing about this comic for me. The slow, mundane pacing is also rather pleasant and allows for different kinds of stories than you usually see in a superhero comic. I also loved the underwater sequences and wish there was more underwater content, they're beautifully drawn and splendidly atmospheric.
Some of it hasn't aged well though. The vague sexist tone, the overwritten scifi-of-yesteryear prose, the episodic interactions with little plot development, and especially That part is honestly laughable. But the reason I didn't rate it higher is just that it was mostly boring. There's enough here that I enjoyed reading it, but not so much that really cared or wanted to seek out more when it was over. I may change my mind after I've had more time to contemplate the content, if the book sticks with me then I'll try volume two.
Lots of comics have claimed to undertake the scenario of super-heroes/super-powered beings in the "real world," and lots of those series have plenty of virtues. However, the only comic book that has ever really made me feel that it encompasses the complexities and emotional layers of "real" super-beings is Paul Chadwick's Concrete.
Quick origin summary: Ron Lithgow, former congressional speechwriter, was abducted by aliens while camping and had his mind transfered into a very large, hawk-eyed, relatively hard to damage, rock-encrusted body. That's just the quick set-up, because Concrete's origin is just an excuse to tell stories about this remarkable character.
Ron, assisted by biologist Maureen Vonnegut and his personal aide Larry Munro, sets out to live his life to the fullest, enabled by his new body's ability to survive in almost any environment. He attempts to swim the Atlantic Ocean, climbs Mount Everest, digs in cave-ins, saves small farms and more during the course of these two volumes. Each story is well researched, as Chadwick gives plenty of insights into farming, ocean life and the culture of Nepal, among many more fascinating factoids.
Chadwick also seems to relish the opportunities that each of Concrete's strange new adventures afford him as an artist. The variety of ocean life and the grand tapestry of New England's Appalachian mountains are rendered with a stunning eye to detail and imagination.
Best of all, each new Concrete story drives into the depth of Ron Lithgow's soul. What must it be like for a man to be completely cut off from humanity, trapped in a granite shell that, in many ways, does not behave as our human bodies? How does a man react to life in a sexless body like Concrete's? What sort of political ramifications must be dealt with to find any form of freedom when you are one of the world's most fascinating beings? And how much does Ron love the advantages of being Concrete, as compared to the problems of being alone?
Like true humanity and reality, the answers are always unfolding and sometimes contradictory, but they are continuously compelling and engaging.
And if those reasons aren't sufficient to have you try Concrete, you have to read it if you've ever want to see an 8-foot-tall rock-man confront the unbelievable fury of a Himalayan avalanche!
One phase I went through when I was young was a brief fixation on Dark Horse Comics. Having no money and being forced to simply stare at the contents of their online store, I swore when I was old I'd read all the Dark Horse Comics I wanted. Well, here I am.
I stumbled upon Concrete in an ad within the pages of my first rather mixed foray into Dark Horse properties via The Mask. As will probably be documented here, I am a sucker for the Golem look and aesthetic, so Concrete's simplistic rocky appearance immediately grabbed my attention.
In what may end up being a year full of comic-reading, Concrete feels wholly unique. Highly innovative for its era, there are no megalomaniacal or monstrous antagonists for our hero to fight. Instead, former political speech writer Ronald Lithgow has had his mind transferred to a strange stone body by an alien race. Narrowly escaping a life of servitude aboard their ship and returning to Earth, Lithgow goes to his Congressman employer, who refers to him to those eggheads at the US Science Department, and so on.
I like these stories because Chadwick is very creative in finding ways to make challenges for Concrete despite being the only powered person in the setting; something I believe other properties, such as Netflix's Luke Cage fail to do as gracefully. Done poorly, you have Superman at his worst: Nothing makes your character sweat because he is ALWAYS the strongest thing in the room. That's no fun. Avoiding these pitfalls in this collection of stories, Concrete tests the limits of himself via rescuing miners, deep sea diving, and cool twists like keeping friends alive at sea and being security for a popstar.
Lot of fun with this! At first, I was put off by Concrete's tendency to wax poetic, but it helps to remember that there are people who -do- talk like that, and a speech writer is probably one of them.
CONCRETE: DEPTHS and CONCRETE: HEIGHTS by Paul Chadwick - this is my third time reading this material (though not in this format). I tend to think of Concrete in relation to his contemporaries Hellboy and Savage Dragon: all three seem inspired by Jack Kirby/Stan Lee’s Ben Grimm, though each take the Kirby/Lee influence in a very different direction. Mignola makes the Kirby/Lee idiom a vehicle for Weird Fantasy stories in the Robert E. Howard tradition, and Hellboy is best seen as a Conan-like hero (meaning the Conan of the Howard stories and Roy Thomas comics). Larsen, on the other hand, doesn’t add to or replace the super-heroics with anything else: he keeps them going full-bore and, importantly, keeps them going without any concern for being part of a franchise. I.e., Savage Dragon is Larsen’s idea of a Lee/Kirby comic freed of any constraints of needing to help sell a line of comics or sell a character as a property apart from the comics. Chadwick, on the other hand, takes the human interest element and places it front and center and gives us low key science fiction stories. The superheroics are important as a negative space: the stories here gain thematic resonance from their absence. It also reads as powerfully, almost embarrassingly, autobiographical: Concrete’s condition playing out as an odd kind of power fantasy that plays up the limitations of those powers and the underlying psychological symbolism rather than any wish fulfillment aspects. My sense is that the reputation of the stories has waned over the years and they are seen more as artifacts of that awkward time when people who wanted to do “serious” comics still needed to have one foot in the world of superhero comics. (See, for example, the way Eddie Campbell talks about his own Bacchus comics). However, I think, as individual stories, they range from very good to great, and they almost never feel like a compromise, thanks to Chadwick’s commitment to the concept.
I loved Concrete when it first came out as single-issue comic books (and before that as stories in 'Dark Horse Presents') I still enjoy them now. They can be too wordy and full of Concrete's thoughts, but when they hit, they hit hard. The drawing is frequently beautiful and I sometimes stop to study a panel (particularly when Chadwick is drawing intensely detailed images of sea life).
The stories that I remembered from having read previously were: - 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous' - a mother suckers Concrete into appearing at her son's birthday party -'A New Life' - Concrete's origin story - Straight in the Eye'- Concrete finds a missing person in the wilderness -'An Armchair Stuffed with Dynamite' - Concrete serves as a body guard for a rock star
I got to read two stories that I had heard references to but never seen: 'The Transatlantic Swim' - (Concrete's attempt to make the swim solo goes very badly and puts his friends at risk) and 'A Stone Among Stones' (Concrete tries to save some buried miners).
I picked up THE HUMAN DILEMMA as it was coming out close to 10 years ago and got instantly hooked; I've been gutted that there's been no new CONCRETE since. The stories are deliberately small in scale, occasionally reaching for medium, and honestly that's perfect -- it's rarer and rarer for superhero books to examine what there is for a superhero to do, not in a world that's menaced by villains that are scary and dangerous enough to test their power, but in this world, where unimaginable power has already been achieved and found wanting. And the central characters (Concrete, but also Larry and Maureen) are instantly iconic and yet still complex and human. Indispensable IMO.
Concrete as very often noted is not a superheroes story, rather, the tale of a regular guy stuck in an alien body and trying to cope with the fact he will not be human anymore. Most stories are contemplative, introspective and most of the time there is no action at all. Concrete is a flawed hero and not indestructible.
I am a big fan of B&W comics and I think Paul Chadwick is one of the best comic artists in this world. He is a terrific writer as well.
As a Marvel and DC guy I decided to try a different type of read. Using Hoopla I found this interesting story. It was good. It did lack the excitement of the super hero comics I am use to but Concrete is definitely an interesting character. I just wish he was part of a greater comic universe and could see his interaction with other characters. I will eventually read the other volumes. It is a nice change of pace for my comic reading.
Some nice, very human stories about a man who has lost his humanity. An unusual book that predates most of the "what if superheroes were more human" genre, with a beguiling simplicity and an emphasis in settings such as caves or underwater. The best one in the collection for me was Orange Glow, not a Concrete story, but unbearably poignant.
These stories are really boring, due to having super low levels of conflict. There are no stakes here, other than "nice guy tries to get by in a weird body". The origin story was interesting, but the rest wasn't very compelling, or funny. I doubt I will read any more of this series.
Don't know how i've been a comic book fan for this long without reading this book before! Paul Chadwick's Concrete is a series of beautiful and well illustrated short stories that should appeal to any adult graphic novel fan, but especially fans of Astro City as the storytelling style of short character driven stories is just as prevalent in this book as it would be in those.
Gentle and thought provoking, sprinkled with subtle humour. What is a twelve hundred pound super hero encased in concrete to do when there are no super villains to battle? Save trapped miners, swim the Atlantic, amuse kids at their birthday party, body guard a musician, swim with mantas or just try to figure out how to get through the day.
Amazing black and white artwork. Even if the stories were just ok, I would probably still read for the artwork. But the stories are good too. Mostly short snapshots into Concrete's life. A strangely relatable life for such an unusual character. Some are adventurous. Some are mundane. I found all of them entertaining.
When I first read Concrete it felt like a comic made especially for me. It had a main character like a superhero, except he wasn't a superhero - Concrete just wanted to travel the world, write stories, and help people. The stories featured surreal acts, but always had a way of feeling very human.
A smart and interesting take on Silver Age comics - what if The Thing from the Fantastic 4 was put in the real world and asked not to punch supervillains but to be a real guy who lives in the world? Some drama, some comedy, and some quiet tragedy ensues. Great comic!