What follows is 78 minutes of pure, unadulterated chaos. The film never leaves the motel grounds. The action is staged with the reckless charm of men who learned karate from a VHS tape of Bloodsport . In one iconic sequence, Tostão fights a henchman using only a box of stale Sonho de Valsa chocolates and a broken mop. In another, he slides down a bannister while firing a .38 that runs out of bullets after the first shot—he spends the rest of the scene making pew pew sounds with his mouth. The editor kept it.
By J. Oliveira | Retrospective Cinema
The plot, such as it is: Tostão wakes up in a motel in the outskirts of Osasco. He doesn’t remember his name, why he’s wearing a dirty sertanejo hat, or why a parrot is pecking at a detonator on the nightstand. The motel is called Bom Dia (“Good Morning”). The villain, a corrupt real estate developer known only as (cult actor Cláudio Marzo, clearly drunk), has wired the entire motel to explode at 10:00 AM. DURO DE MATAR- UM BOM DIA PARA MORRER
Why? Because Tostão accidentally swallowed a lottery ticket worth 50 million cruzeiros reais. The Gringo wants the ticket. Tostão just wants aspirin and a coffee.
The dialogue is poetry of the absurd. When asked why he won't just hand over the ticket, Tostão growls: “Café passado não se bebe frio, e homem feito não se dobra pra gringo de terno.” (Brewed coffee isn’t drunk cold, and a grown man doesn’t fold for a gringo in a suit.) What follows is 78 minutes of pure, unadulterated chaos
Where to find it: Buried under a crate of Guaraná Antarctica in a defunct video rental store in Lapa.
Duro de Matar: Um Bom Dia para Morrer is not a good movie. It is a sacred text. It captures a specific moment in Brazilian genre cinema where budget was zero, ambition was infinite, and logic was the first victim. It is a wonderful bad morning to die, but a hilarious afternoon to watch. In one iconic sequence, Tostão fights a henchman
☕☕☕ (Three cold coffees out of five). Watch it with friends, alcohol, and zero respect for continuity.
