Ron Lithgow's new, 1200-pound body has its good it lets him do some things and see some places. But it draws a clear line between him and normal people, and in the end he'd much rather be just plain Ron Lithgow, and not Concrete.
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.
This second collection of Concrete 'short stories' draws from more varied sources than the previous (which was entirely taken from Dark Horse Presents), and the quality of stories is just as varied. Taken from some some issues of DHP, some of Concrete: Eclectica, ...Odd Jobs and ...Celebrates Earth Day, as well as a couple other one-off books, these tales run from the mundane reality of Concrete's life (e.g., 'King of the Early Evening' and 'American Christmas') to experimental flights of fancy (like 'A Billion Conscious Acts' and 'I Strive for Realism'). Some are gems ('...Conscious Acts' was a departure from typical storytelling with some fascinating factoids; 'Fire at Twilight' and 'What Needs to Be Done' were both sharp and gritty forays into crime drama), some...not so much (the lengthy diatribe of 'Like Disneyland, Only Toxic' was pretty unbearable, being as it is Concrete practicing a self-righteous Earth Day speech; 'Steel Rain' was a vaguely hypocritical Save the Rainforest adventure that just didn't work for me). Overall, this presents another varied (for better or worse) picture of the range of Chadwick's talents as well as the possibilities of Concrete the character and Concrete the title. Though it got off to a rough start ('Like Disneyland...' is the third story, and really kills the pace early on) and had some rocky going, by the end of the book I was ready to move on to Complete Concrete. This edition adds a charming-but-pointless introduction from Chadwick's friend Mark Verheiden and Jamie S. Rich offers an informative illustrated history of Concrete's life, with an abbreviated bibliography.
Entering a series midway through is normally a bad idea but I actually quite enjoyed being introduced to Concrete through later short fiction.
By the 90's, Paul Chadwick had been writing the adventures of his seminal protagonist Concrete for a decade and so his grasp of character in this collection is firm but also suitably relaxed. Ron Lithgow was a political speech writer until he and his friend were abducted by aliens that experimented on them and transplanted their brains into large rock-like bodies. After escaping, Ron was stuck in his new body and given a new identity by his government. Indulging a lifelong desire to be an adventurer, Concrete has since formed new friendships, made a couple of enemies and helped wherever he could.
Concrete's absurd origin story would have probably been a more fun entry point to this series but I enjoyed getting to the essence of his worldview and relationships with other characters. I found the thoughtful nature of these stories rather soothing and surprisingly educational. The lessons in environmentalism alone are well-executed and reminded me to marvel at miniature lifeforms.
Chadwick's style permeates this collection, showing an author at play with the world he has created. In a rare fantastical moment, he even fully self-inserts to interact with Concrete and offer him some much-needed explanation, albeit briefly.
I'm glad I picked up this collection. It confirmed my instincts about Chadwick's storytelling choices and Concrete's overall tone and now I'm ready to start from book one. I recommend Concrete: The Complete Short Stories, 1990-1995 to anyone else curious to see a big stone man tackling problems with thought and humility, as well as strength and resilience.
Notable Stories
• A Billion Conscious Acts - a beautiful and eye-opening sequence showing the natural world we cannot see in a single footprint.
• What Needs To Be Done - a missed connection shows people's capacity for self-defence, with shocking consequences.
• I Strive for Realism - a story that shatters the fourth wall, plays with abstract imagery and questions existence, on a forest trail.
Meh. Chadwick's art is decent enough (and occasionally very good indeed), and I suppose that when these stories were first published they might have stood out from a lot of the other comics of the time, given how Chadwick makes Concrete a superhero who really doesn't do anything superheroic; there aren't major battles, wicked villains, and other staples of superhero comics. Indeed, many of these stories don't require a 1200-pound concrete humanoid with a regular human brain in that body to work. Basically, what if a "superhero" lived a mundane life and rarely if ever did anything with his power? That's where we are here, and in the early 1990s, that might have seemed innovative, but I don't think it has aged well because the stories, considered as such, just are not that strong. A few aren't even stories at all, so much as meditations on subjected evidently dear to Chadwick, such as environmentalism. I have no issue with that interest, but the "stories" at times end up with just a lot of ... well, pontificating is probably too strong a word, but a lot of talk about the environment. "Show, don't tell" is a cliche, to be sure, but it is also not untrue. The stories with plots are also not that interesting. Indeed, one involving a lame revenge plot against Concrete, to be achieved by videotaping him in a humiliating encounter, really strains credibility. The final story, Chadwick's foray into meta, which was something of a vogue in comics around then, is moderately interesting (especially when it imagines Concrete's passage through time as, well, literally concrete) but feels like an indulgence. Id does, however, feature the best artwork in the book. Anyway, I've read two Concrete books now without being super-impressed, so I doubt I'll pursue others.
Concrete is beautiful! These stories start of a little idealistic, and political, but I think they end up closer to applied philosophy, on small and grand scales, as they progress. These stories cover a surprising range, and its clear that Chadwick had a very complex vision for Concrete as a character and that he was successful in depicting him as such. Very cute, with amazing illustrations.
The follow-up to Concrete: Complete Short Stories 1986-1989
Concrete is not a superhero. He's not the Hulk smashing everything in his path. He's not The Thing shouting «It's Clobberin Time» before going into action. In fact, there is very little action in Concrete's life. In some ways, you even get to pity the poor schmuck that had his brain transfered into a big pile of rock by a bunch of mysterious aliens. He actually probably lost more than he gained... his sense of touch is practically innexistent, no more taste buds, no more sense of smell either... also try to imagine what a guy like him's sex life is like... he doesn't wear any clothes and, well, it's pretty obvious there a part of male anatomy that just aint there. OK, so he got these amazing eyes and great strenght. But in world where superheroes are innexistant, he makes due as any of us would with what he's got on a day to day basis trying not to let his «handicap» pull him down. One could say that Concrete is one of the most normal guys in the world. He could be anybody you just happen to cross on the street on any given day... except he's big and, you know, made of concrete.
Contains a bunch of short stories compiled mostly from Dark Horse Presents into a neat and nice package.