Tocaia No Asfalto

Coronelismo, or rule of the colonels, was the dominant oligarchic system during Brazil’s Old Republic through which political power was centralized in the hands of landowning colonels who would dispense favors in exchange for loyalty. A free-for-all of corruption (and a fertile noir setting), cultural vestiges of this feudalist system remained in place well into the mid-twentieth century, as documented in Roberto Pires’ Tocaia No Asfalto, a late-cycle, heavily stylized noir set in the grittiest corners of Salvador in Brazil’s state of Bahia. Foreshadowing the hitman Rufino’s (Agildo Ribeiro) brutal mission, the opening credits linger over the image of a bloody bullet puncture in the forehead of his latest victim just before he’s hired by a Bahian politician to kill his opponent and candidate for Governor of the State, Colonel Pinto Borges (Milton Gaucho). Rufino arrives in the seedy streets of Salvador and takes a room at the sleazy, violent brothel run by the foulmouthed Dona Filó (Jurema Penna), where he falls in love with gentle, reluctant prostitute Ana Paula (Arassary de Oliveira), whose pimp Luciano (Adriano Lisboa) makes it a habit of coming by and roughing her up. A kind of secondary protagonist is the area’s deputy Ciro (Geraldo del Rey), whose anti-corruption idealism is becoming a problem for Borges’ murderous plans (wait till he finds out Ciro is in love with his daughter). Despite a few editing blunders and uneven performances across the supporting cast, director Pires skillfully builds tense anticipation for the final hit jobs, making brilliant use of the interior of the extraordinary São Francisco Church, where he encounters a priest while scoping out his best shot, and later aims at Borges in a pew in total silence (Rufino himself is deeply religious, praying after each hit while justifying his behavior as righteous justice for his brother’s murder). With a minimal budget, the film arguably qualifies for noir’s upper tier. Chiaroscuro lighting, creative framing, extremely high angles, and rapid panning all add depth to the proceedings, cinematographer Silva taking spatial risks that pay off big: note, for example, the upside down shot of the young lovers in a hammock, or the panning camera that drops to the ground and rotates to continue tracking the running character, now upside down.