I enjoyed Matt Kindt’s melancholy tale of a man who never stops growing. 3 Story isn’t told by the giant, but by his mother, wife, and daughter, each telling a story. Kindt’s art is muted watercolours, never catching too much detail as Craig Pressgang grows ever more gigantic and distant from the world. He’s hired by the CIA and used as a cold war propaganda piece. His wife builds a house they can live in where he can raise his arms and not touch the ceiling. His daughter goes searching for the man who was more a mountain to her than a father. It’s all so goddamned sad and beautiful.