“Before you get mad at me:
I didn’t crow about it elsewhere, but I feel, in hating on this book, that I should tell you that I spent $500 this last summer to buy comics by and about black people for my local library. I identified a list of potential titles, the $500 was spent, and we now have books like Concrete Park in the collection. The librarian doing the purchasing suggested I might open it to all POC and LGBTQIA+ people as well, but I declined because A) I felt like that moment was about black people, not generalized diversity, B) My library has a lot of LGBTQIA+ comics, and I didn’t feel that this portion of the collection was lean the same way that books by and about black people was, and C) $500 is a lot to me, but it doesn’t go all that far in a massive library collection, so I felt the effect would be diluted if we opened it up.
I don’t say that for a pat on the back, I say that because I recognize the importance of books by and about black people, and I put my money where my mouth is. And with that said, I think it’s fair for me to critique this book via some of the same criteria I’d use on a comic by a white guy. Because to give a book a pass because it does a good thing in presenting diversity means that some people will end up reading a book, thinking this is what is considered “good” comics, and that won’t be, in my opinion, an accurate representation of good comics.
So I recognize the good thing this does by bringing some diversity to the world, and I’m putting that in a separate bucket from what I have to say about this book as a reader of comics. I don’t think this is an objectively bad book, and if you love it, and if part of your love for it is in the representation, that’s fabulous. I’m not taking that away from you. I’m telling you about my reading experience.
Concrete Park is Escape from New York, except on another planet instead of Manhattan, which SEEMS like another planet with all their weird food and getting mad at people for walking slow, amirite?!
Okay, that’s the premise. And that’s about all there is.
In 4 issues, we basically go along with a character who is going from one part of the city to another to cut some kind of unclear deal with someone else in order to control a larger part of the city. There are gangs that control different parts, but maybe the gangs also intermingle a lot? That part wasn’t super clear.
We also follow, somewhat, a character who is headed to space prison planet. But in 4 issues, we barely arrive at the planet with this character. This character would’ve been really useful for readers. As he figures out what the hell is going on, the reader can be clued in as well. It’s the “new guy” method of exposition: the new guy in the story is a stand-in for the reader, so he can ask all the questions the reader has, such as “Why do the gangs have territories but also constantly intermingle?” “How does one go from being a prostitute to being a boss lady beyond just deciding that’s a good idea?” “Wait…this guy is a shapeshifter?”
The weirdest part, there’s a shapeshifter guy. Who I assume is human and somehow has this ability? But I’m unclear whether other people have “powers” and how all this works? I could’ve used a little more explanation on that one. It’s like watching Orange is the New Black and someone in the prison has the power of x-ray vision, and none of the prisoners seem to find this even a little odd.
All in all, I felt like Concrete Park spends 4 issues setting the scene, and not much happens. And the scene isn’t all that intriguing after we’ve had an escape from New York, another escape from LA, Escape Plan(s), Face/Off, Batman: No Man’s Land, and to a lesser extent, 4 Mad Max movies. When we’re talking Prison Planet, I think part of the lifting, post…let’s call it post-2010, is differentiating your prison planet from the other versions of this we’ve seen.
The book was co-written by Tony Puryear and his wife, Erika Alexander, who you might remember from Living Single. I remember her from that because it was in the rotation at my house. Possibly because Queen Latifah was the star, and anyone who knows my mom knows The Queen is her favorite rapper. Queen Latifah: underrated rapper, VERY underrated rapper-turned-actor. In the rappers-as-actors game, she might be at the top. She genuinely doesn’t suck at movies, which is not a claim many rappers can make. Maybe Eminem. Because he made one movie where he played himself and got the fuck out right after recording a banger of a theme track. Smart.
Tony Puryear was a screenwriter before Concrete Park. He’s probably most famous for Eraser starring Arnold and that chick who was a disgraced Miss America because she posed nude, which seems crazy in retrospect because it’s like, “Parade around in a bikini, but god help you if you’re actually nude. We just want to IMAGINE you nude. THAT’S Miss America!” It’s almost like a weird perversion where we want to be able to create the nudity picture in our heads, and seeing the actual nudity just ruins it. Oh, well. I know people have lots of opinions on Miss America. I frankly don’t give a fuck about it. And PS, if you’re using the fact of Miss America being the “largest provider of scholarships to women” and that being a sign of our ingrained misogyny, look it up. I’m not going to do your googling for you today, but it’s basically bullshit.
Fun fact: On the Wikipedia page for Eraser, there’s a note at the top to help confused browsers eliminate confusion between Eraser and Erasherhead. I nominate this for least helpful Wikipedia redirect of all time. Who is confusing these two films? A 1977 David Lynch, bizarre, abstract bodyhorror film about sort of nothing and a 1996 action film starring Arnold that revolves around guns that shoot aluminum bullets through walls or something, where Arnold kills an alligator/crocodile and busts out the one-liner “You’re luggage”? How far into Eraserhead do you get before you’re like, “…hey, I don’t think Arnold is showing up any time soon”? How far into Eraser do you get before you’re like, “The production value is amazing, but this seems like a departure for David Lynch…”?
Let’s go back to the book.
My problem with it comes down to the simplest thing: There’s just not much here.
Concrete Park’s ad copy promises the following: unforgettable protagonists, a colorful supporting cast, redemption, romance, and nonstop action.
Did we get it?
Unforgettable Protagonists: Well, we have a Polynesian(?) woman with a big butt, but big in the good way. Sorry, that’s not my description, that’s her description of herself. A couple times. And we have a black man(?) who is headed to the prison planet because reasons. I don’t know that I’d call them unforgettable. I don’t know either of their names. I don’t know or don’t remember why either of them are headed to prison planet. I do know that the guy wants to kill another guy, except then he doesn’t. I have no idea what the woman wants, overall.
A colorful supporting cast: Yes. And no. Okay, the book presents a diverse cast, sort of, but they all look very similar unless they’re going out of their way to not look similar by, for example, putting a flower in the hair to signal “Hawaii!” This is because the style is simple. It’s nice, I think it works in general, but it falls a little flat on presenting any nuance between the appearance of someone who could trace their roots to Africa and someone who could trace their roots to Hawaii. And if we’re talking less literally, the personalities of the characters aren’t really evident at this point.
Redemption: Certainly not yet. I’m not sure that the characters require redemption, and I’m not sure whether they’re headed that way. I don’t know the thing that put them in the rock bottom from which they are to be redeemed?
Romance: There are two post-banging chicks naked on a bed. But their relationship doesn’t seem to have any bearing on the story. And that’s about it? I don’t think the implication of sex that happened before I started in on the story is “romance,” at least not from a plot standpoint.
Nonstop Action: Hmm…I suppose most of the book takes place with the main lady being chased around and shot at. So stuff is happening. But it’s not thrilling. But it didn’t promise “thrilling” action, it promised that the action wouldn’t stop. Which is true. But if stopping the action here and there left room for something else, like a plot, that’d be welcome.
I didn’t enjoy my trip to Concrete Park, even though I wanted to.
And I gave it a low rating because while it’s good to have diverse voices in comics, I also think that there are better comics by and about black people, and if I’m going to point someone to a diverse comic that’s worth their time, it’ll be a different title. “