Over the past few months, The History of Concrete has been inescapable within online independent film circles. Initially, I was incredibly confused. Why is a film about concrete of all things getting so much buzz? By the time I learned that the title was intentionally misleading, the film had already finished its brief run in Portland’s arthouse theater circuit. However, I didn’t let this stop me. I had to get to the bottom of why something so seemingly innocuous was getting so much praise.
The History of Concrete is directed by John Wilson, a comedian and documentarian best known for his TV show How To With John Wilson. Each episode starts with Wilson trying to teach the audience a specific skill, such as how to make small talk, only for him to get sidetracked by the various people and situations he gets involved with along the way. The History of Concrete feels like a feature length episode of How To, both in the way it's presented and its purposefully meandering quality. The film follows Wilson as he tries to find meaning in life after his show ended, becoming fixated on concrete and its overlooked importance in day-to-day life. There is a loose overarching plot of Wilson attempting to pitch a documentary about concrete to Hollywood producers only to find complete disinterest, but the majority of the film is a series of vignettes relating in some way to concrete or man-made environments. I watched the film before I was familiar with Wilson’s style and was confused by how unfocused it felt. I now realize that this was the point.
The most interesting thing about The History of Concrete is Wilson’s incredibly distinctive filmmaking style. The film is almost entirely made up of Wilson narrating over often seemingly unrelated B-roll footage. This B-roll is mostly of various things and people throughout New York City that Wilson found compelling in some way, reminiscent of looking through someone’s photo library on their phone and getting a brief glimpse of how they see the world and what small moments from their life they wanted to remember. The mundanity of this footage makes the film stand out from any other documentary I’ve seen. Usually, B-roll footage is an afterthought, filler to bridge the gap between the more “important” footage of the subject. In The History of Concrete, all of the footage is treated with an equal amount of importance, whether it’s an industry dinner with Kim Kardashian or a crack in the sidewalk. Additionally, the way the B-roll footage is edited shows an impressive attention to detail. The placement of each piece of footage is extremely purposeful, recontextualized in order to perfectly match Wilson’s narration. In this way, the film almost acts as a collage, with each piece of footage as a found object repurposed to fit Wilson’s narrative. By removing the traditional hierarchy of documentary footage, Wilson forces the viewer to consider how they view the world around them and question their lack of curiosity toward things perceived as mundane.
While the exploration of concrete and its importance within society is a framing device, the central focus of the film is the impermanence of existence. Concrete is meant to last; its ostensible purpose is to be permanent and unchanging. Throughout the film, Wilson learns about how concrete is made and used, discovering that its long-term durability is often sacrificed for strength, aesthetics, or cost-saving measures. Like everything else, concrete will inevitably crack and break down. Change is inevitable. If one can accept that something that symbolizes the immutable can still be worn away by time, they can accept the other changes that come as a part of life. People you love will die, the neighborhoods and communities you live in will one day become unrecognizable, and the TV show that you’ve dedicated years of your life to will end. Time will alter things whether you like it or not, and learning to accept that is part of the human condition.
However, while I liked a lot about this film, I still struggled to fully appreciate it. Wilson is purposefully uncharismatic, his narration is filled with stutters, filler words, and awkward pauses. I assume this part of his comedic persona is meant to be funny or feel more “real,” but I just found it grating. Many parts of the film’s more poignant moments would have hit harder if they were delivered with more confidence. Additionally, while I enjoyed the film’s rambling quality and how it dived down increasingly bizarre rabbit holes, it was unable to connect its various threads into a satisfying ending. A significant amount of the ideas that Wilson spent the film interrogating were left unresolved, leaving me wondering what the point of their inclusion was. Finally, despite being billed as comedic, I didn’t find this film especially funny. A lot of it was interesting or insightful, but most of the comedic moments (of which there were many) fell flat. I don’t think this is a fault of the film itself and more so a matter of personal taste, but it prevented me from fully connecting to the film.
Ultimately, I adore the style of this film and, despite not enjoying Wilson’s comedic persona, I found several moments quite moving. Wilson’s persona and humor is an acquired taste, but if it connects with you I imagine you will love this film. I’d recommend watching an episode of How To as a litmus test. Additionally, if you are interested in urban planning or architecture you might really enjoy this, but I will warn you that, despite what the title suggests, concrete is only a small piece of the overall puzzle. My mother went to see this movie while it was in theaters eager to learn about concrete and was incredibly disappointed. If only she had the money and power of a Hollywood producer, she would’ve solved all of Wilson’s funding problems.