Panama

There is a specific kind of cinematic humidity that only exists in films where every male character looks like they haven’t showered since the Reagan administration. It’s a world of linen suits, sweat-beaded foreheads, and enough cigar smoke to trigger a regional health alert. Mark Neveldine’s Panama (2022) leans into this aesthetic with such aggressive commitment that you can almost smell the cheap cologne and diesel fuel through the screen. I watched this while trying to peel a very stubborn sticker off a new coffee mug, and I realized that the struggle of getting that adhesive off was remarkably similar to the film's attempts to stick its own landing—messy, frustrating, but weirdly satisfying when a little bit actually works.

The Neveldine Needle-Drop

When I saw Mark Neveldine’s name on the credits, my pulse ticked up a beat. This is the man who, alongside Brian Taylor, gave us the caffeinated masterpiece Crank and its even more unhinged sequel. Those films were pure adrenaline, shot with a handheld camera style that felt like the cinematographer was having a controlled seizure. In Panama, Neveldine is flying solo, and while he’s toned down the "Go-Pro strapped to a weed-whacker" energy, he still brings a jagged, restless eye to the proceedings.

The film is set in 1989, right on the precipice of the U.S. invasion. We follow James Becker (Cole Hauser), a former Marine who is still mourning his wife and living a life of quiet desperation until his old commander, Stark (Mel Gibson), shows up with a job. The mission? Go to Panama, buy a Soviet helicopter from some very unsavory people, and keep the gears of American interests turning. It’s a classic "one last job" setup that feels like it was unearthed from a time capsule buried in a Cannon Films backyard in 1987. The movie moves like a man trying to run through waist-deep mud while wearing a tuxedo—it wants to be slick and fast, but the narrative weight keeps pulling it back into the muck.

A Tale of Two Tough Guys

The real draw here for the modern VOD audience is the pairing of Cole Hauser and Mel Gibson. Hauser has spent the last few years becoming the patron saint of rugged masculinity thanks to Yellowstone, and he carries that "Rip Wheeler" energy here. He plays Becker as a man of few words and many squinted glares. It’s a physical performance, which is lucky because the dialogue he’s given is often as dry as a saltine cracker left in the sun.

Then there’s Mel Gibson. We are currently living in the "Geezer Teaser" era—a term coined for films that put a legendary star on the poster for ten minutes of screen time to sell the movie overseas. To be fair, Gibson is actually in this one more than you’d expect. He spends most of his time narrating the film with a voice that sounds like a sack of gravel being dragged over velvet, or sitting in dimly lit rooms looking like he knows exactly where the bodies are buried. Mel Gibson delivers his lines like he’s trying to win a bet to see how many words he can say without moving his jaw, yet he still possesses that undeniable magnetic charisma. When he’s on screen, the movie feels five times more expensive than it actually is.

The VOD Jungle

Released in the wake of the pandemic, Panama is a fascinating artifact of the current streaming landscape. It’s the kind of mid-budget actioner that would have been a theatrical staple in the 90s but now lives on digital platforms where viewers are looking for something "solid enough" for a Friday night. Interestingly, while the film is set in Panama, it was actually filmed in Puerto Rico. This is a common move for contemporary productions looking for tax incentives and the "Volume" (virtual production) wasn't used here; instead, they opted for real, sweltering locations. The cinematography by Pedro Juan López captures that tropical heat well, but the digital muzzle flashes are so distractingly bad they look like they were added in a free iPhone app.

The action itself is a mixed bag. There’s a motorcycle chase early on that has some of that old Neveldine spark—kinetic, slightly dangerous-looking, and edited with a frantic rhythm. But as the plot gets bogged down in the complexities of the Noriega regime and the various double-crosses between Becker and the femme fatale Camila (Kiara Liz), the momentum stutters. It’s a film that wants to have something profound to say about the "true nature of political power," as the synopsis claims, but it’s much more comfortable when things are just blowing up.

Ultimately, Panama is a movie that exists in the "just okay" ether. It doesn't have the wild, experimental bravery of Mark Neveldine's early work, nor does it have the budget to truly pull off a historical political thriller. It functions as a showcase for Cole Hauser's ability to carry an action lead and Mel Gibson's ability to look cool in a flight suit, but it lacks the narrative connective tissue to make it a must-see. If you’re a completionist for 80s-set espionage or just really need to see Mel Gibson smoke a cigar while explaining the Iran-Contra affair, this will kill 95 minutes effectively enough. Just don’t expect it to stay in your head much longer than the smell of the popcorn you ate while watching it.