Panama (2022), directed by Mark Neveldine and starring Cole Hauser (Yellowstone) and Mel Gibson, aims to be a testosterone-fueled political thriller set against the chaos of 1989 Panama—but ultimately delivers more style than substance. The film combines military action, political intrigue, and undercover espionage in a loose narrative inspired by real historical tensions, but struggles to find emotional depth or narrative coherence.
Set during the final months of the U.S. military's build-up to the invasion of Panama and the eventual ousting of dictator Manuel Noriega, the story follows former Marine James Becker (Hauser). Recruited by a shadowy government figure named Stark (Gibson), Becker is tasked with securing a high-stakes arms deal that could tip the balance of power in the region. As he dives deeper into Panama’s volatile underworld, Becker finds himself entangled in a web of deception, violence, and shifting allegiances.
Cole Hauser, in a physically commanding and brooding lead role, gives a solid performance, playing Becker as a battle-worn man with demons but not much to say. Mel Gibson, though mostly in a supporting role, delivers his usual charm-with-an-edge performance, guiding the chaos from the shadows. However, both actors are underserved by a script that leans heavily on clichés and over-explains without ever offering real insight into its characters or the geopolitics at play.
Visually, Panama is gritty and kinetic, often shot in saturated tones and handheld camera movements that mimic the frantic energy of war-zone journalism. Action sequences are frequent and brutal, with close-quarters combat, gunfire, and car chases dominating much of the runtime. Yet, while the film looks the part of a hard-hitting political thriller, it doesn’t fully capitalize on its promising setting.
The script's pacing is uneven, with some scenes dragging while others are packed with exposition that barely clarifies the stakes. The film brushes against themes of corruption, power, and American imperialism, but rarely goes deeper than surface-level commentary. There’s also a romantic subplot that feels tacked on and unconvincing, doing little to develop Becker’s character beyond the archetype of a damaged lone wolf.
Panama tries to evoke the gritty realism of Sicario and the espionage tension of Clear and Present Danger, but lands somewhere closer to a disposable action-thriller with missed potential. It’s a watchable, often entertaining ride for fans of militarized action and shadowy government operatives, but it lacks the storytelling precision and character depth needed to make it memorable.
With a sharper script and more political nuance, Panama could have been a timely and impactful look at covert U.S. interventions in Latin America. Instead, it settles for bullets and bravado—stylish, yes, but ultimately shallow.
