Through the dirt roads of the suburbs of some isolated town in the Brazilian state of Goiás, Amador drives an old station wagon carrying around slot machines and trying to convince bar owners to get into that business. At his seventies, always wearing a hat and showing a face that is serious and serene at the same time, he's really not into that kind of business, and he's been missing those days when he used to put into practice his true talent: killing for money.
It turns out that in recent times the "neighborhood boss" has forbidden that kind of indiscriminate violence, for a quite pragmatic reason. Nowadays it is possible to make money outside the law without causing so much terror and without calling so much attention from the media and the authorities. The slot machines' profitable business is an outstanding example. The problem is that, in this black market, many work and few get the profits, and Amador, who's among the ones who only work, is getting tired of that situation. He can't stand having become just one of the subordinates of "the Uncle" - the crime boss in town, a longtime acquaintance of Amador's, who also came from the underworld and today poses as a respected businessman.
Amador's resentment and dissatisfaction silently build up until they finally overflow to a "comeback". This time, he wants more than just financial rewards for his murders. At the end of his life, he mainly wishes to rebuild his reputation as a feared and respected gunman, who doesn't need to bow to that fake businessman who lives in his castle and whose courage has never been proved in combat.
Amador proudly keeps an album of newspapers clippings, with tens of headlines reporting the violent crimes he committed in the past. That album works as a kind of curriculum vitae, in the most professional sense of that word. It's a true showcase that he offers to potential clients who might doubt his efficiency as a hit-man.
Amador is not afraid to pride himself in all of his past slaughters and he even brags about being some kind of a celebrity in town. It feels like we're at a parallel universe of crooked morals where the bloodthirsty outlaws are the real heroes.
Despite the cruelty of their past actions, Amador and his old partners don't behave as savage men capable of doing some atrocity at any moment for no reason. Rather, they act like polite and civilized men, although not with that kind of sophisticated elegance of some Italian mafiosi that are typical of films like The Godfather or Goodfellas (something that probably never existed in real life). Instead, Amador has the manners of a respectable but humble family man.
Nelson Xavier does a brilliant job at playing Amador. He's at scene through nearly all of the 90 minutes of the film, but there isn't one single frame where he shows a hint of a smile. He keeps a constant attitude of heavy serenity, and his manners vary subtly depending on whom he's interacting with.
When he's dealing with his apprentice, his posture is that of solemn haughtiness combined with a certain dose of understanding condescension. When he's at the hospital visiting his old friend and partner Davi, we sense in him a light warmth that expresses the surprising solidarity that a murderer can have towards someone who's at the brink of death. When he's got to talk to the Uncle, his posture changes considerably: he loses a good part of his haughty nature and he assumes an air that connotes some kind of reluctant submission, something like a fake reverence that purposely wants to look fake. Xavier's versatility, the great expressive strength of his acting, is one of the essential elements that make this a great film.
The plot is not very dense, it doesn't use that old technique of creating and resolving narrative tensions. It actually seems more like a collage of loosely connected situations that have each its own special aesthetic interest. This is a film that aims to portray a general context, presenting itself almost like a documentary that's full of gaps that must be filled by the spectator's imagination. What would be a narrative ends up being more well defined as an observation of those men's lives as they naturally unfold, with their occasional beauties and also with their dull banalities.
The expressive cinematography reveals some landscapes that are seldom explored by Brazilian cinema, which usually emphasizes the extremes (portraying the shanty towns and the rich neighborhoods). Comeback gives us the opportunity to enjoy the view of some streets that could be those of any middle-class suburban neighborhood of any big Brazilian town. These unexceptional urban landscapes are shown through a perspective that makes them look transcendent, turning them into real works of art, just like a painting whose result is superior to the reality it portrays. The sequences in which the camera follows at high speed Amador's station wagon through the ups and downs of those dirt roads is a true delight for anyone who's got some aesthetic sensitivity.
The constant use of dark interiors with yellowish lights focused on the characters evokes that kind of lighting that is usually employed in theaters, creating an effect that's cozy and melancholic at the same time, giving the film its general mood. The excellent soundtrack also contributes to that mood, being made up of songs that are mostly heavy and slow, with elements of Brazilian and Latin American rural music.
As a 21st century Brazilian western, capable of combining the best elements of the genre with the peculiarities of the place and time where the story is set, Comeback is undoubtedly one of the best Brazilian features of this year.
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