‘The History of Concrete’ is Not Actually About Concrete

“The History of Concrete” opens with the plight of filmmaker John Wilson — his art isn’t commercially viable. 

The movie follows Wilson’s struggle to pitch a film, make a film and to answer the film’s secondary question: what is the history of concrete? 

As a documentary, the movie is an objective failure. Simply put, the vast majority of the movie has nothing to do with concrete. Instead, Wilson (“How To with John Wilson”) uses concrete as a metaphor to connect to his other ventures — his process as a filmmaker, his personal life and the people he meets. 

But when viewed as a dry comedy, the film is a masterpiece, demonstrating Wilson’s one-of-a-kind talent for cinematography, authenticity and humor.

Throughout the New York City-centered piece of cinema, concrete is a tethering point that Wilson uses as a frame of reference for various elements of the human condition, likeinstability.

The movie’s structure is a series of tangents that explore modern life through the lens of overlooked people and events, like an international concrete convention. Wilson captures genuine slices of life by interviewing idiosyncratic individuals clueless and shameless as to how strange they appear.

The History of Concrete is a spiritual successor to Wilson’s HBO show, “How To with John Wilson.” Similar to the show, Wilson’s miniature feature stories cover two categories of individuals: unique business owners and oversharers. 

Wilson’s defining characteristic is his awkwardness and social anxiety. This would typically be a flaw in a documentary or feature story, but it works to this film’s advantage for the simple reason that it takes a peculiar individual to share their life with an awful conversationalist.

Though Wilson is filming his conversations, they feel as if they’d exist whether the camera was on or not. One of these individuals is someone whose job is removing skin from corpses to preserve tattoos. The young professional describes their job with only minor excitement, not for a second playing up enthusiasm for the camera.

Even when Wilson reaches a spirited subject, such as a man who evaporates gum off sidewalks, they behave as if they genuinely want connection with Wilson because he takes interest in their internal lives. 

In itself, there’s nothing artsy or unique about the documentary’s camera work — instead, Wilson uses cinematography as a form of comedy by contrasting narration with amusing, often ironic visuals of architecture, animals and humans. For instance, as Wilson narrates about humans unaware ofnot knowing their jobs, the movie shows an unmoving dog in a storefront window.

Explaining the appeal of the mundane, ironic visuals is difficult, but they assuredly got regular laughs from the audience.

As an informational documentary, “The History of Concrete” doesn’t answer either of its central questions.

The first question is — of course — what is the history of concrete? The only answer given is that concrete was invented in Ohio during the late 1800s. Back then, it was invented for horse carriages, but that begs the question: how did concrete change since its invention?

This question is never answered either. Wilson regularly talks about the contemporary problems and cultural significance of concrete, but he provides no explanation on concrete’s evolution.

Even the Ohio origin of concrete is contradicted by a segment where he goes to Italy to show how Roman monuments were made with a form of concrete yet stand the test of time despite their age.

This explanatory failure isn’t disappointing; it’s in character with Wilson’s meta-narrative about the challenges of filmmaking and storytelling.

The second question is much more interesting: how will Wilson fund his film? The movie never directly addresses it, only explaining how he doesn’t fund it.

Throughout the 101-minute runtime, Wilson’s pitches to get funding continuously fall flat because of his nebulous, seemingly boring concept.

To the viewer, the producers he pitches to are missing out. “The History of Concrete” is unashamed of the fact that Wilson made it up as he progressively gained more footage to grow his free-flowing story of nothing in particular. 

As the viewer gets blissfully strung along through Wilson’s documentary, its subtle, rich depictions of human life create an appreciation for the overlooked parts of our world. 

Unexpected from any other filmmaker, Wilson encapsulates the human experience by showing that, even for something as mundane as concrete, you will find passionate people in all areas of life. 

“The History of Concrete” is playing in select theaters now, possibly due to Wilson’s funding difficulties.